All Was?
by Tonksaholic
Summary: The true test of strength for the bond of love can come only when it is stretched to its breaking point. Sequel to "Foolish".
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm back and ready for more. Hope you guys are as well. Thanks to my beta, Ginny Guerra, for all her great work. Per her advice, I will say here and now that in my storyverse, James was born in 2002, which makes him three years older than his next sibling. Please enjoy!**

_**February 11th, 2021**_

Ginny Potter walked slowly up and down the hallway, pausing every time she passed the closed door; sometimes for a moment or two, girding her courage to finally step through it, and sometimes for less than a second, putting it behind her as quickly as she could. The healers and their assistants moved around her with ease, paying no mind anymore to the pacing woman with bloodshot eyes grazing outside the Special Care Infant Ward. She had been there for three days now.

_What is wrong with you?_ She scolded herself, shivering slightly as she paused outside the door again. _That is your flesh and blood in that room, fighting for survival, fighting for breath every minute. You're telling me you can't walk through a bloody door?!_

The heartbreak of seeing that tiny, innocent little girl surrounded by the protection of an Incubation Charm, being kept alive only through a series of spells and potions, would be crushing, but Ginny also knew that not going in and seeing her, especially if the worst came to pass, would be fatal.

Placing her hand on the doorknob, Ginny looked up to the ceiling.

"Please give me strength," she whispered, hoping her mother-in-law could hear her as she opened the door. "Make me strong, like you were."

Harry, her mother, the healers...everyone had told her what to expect when she saw the baby for the first time. There would be floating orbs all around the girl for monitoring and charmed quills and parchment keeping track of vitals; the lights would be dimmed because her eyesight was too weak for brightness; the room itself would reek of antiseptic to keep any stray germs away. It had been drilled into her relentlessly by everyone, the shocking environment she was about to see.

They had missed things, though. No one had told her about the Cleaning Charm that was cast on her the moment she stepped through the barrier, which left her feeling cold and prickly, or how loud the beeps were in the complete stillness of the room. Her soft footsteps echoed as if she were banging on a drum the closer she walked towards the bubble resting on small pyre, a tiny sacrifice of some barbaric nature. Finally, Ginny was close enough to look down at the baby.

She had been wrong. Heartbreak wasn't a strong enough word.

The still-nameless girl was barely the length of Ginny's hand. There was no hair on her head, and there also was no way to tell her eye color because they were guarded with a mask to shield them from the dim light. There was barely anything to her except bones, and the tears slipped down Ginny's cheeks as she realized she could easily count every single rib on the child's body. The hardest thing, the thing no one had told her about, was the breathing. Every breath the baby forced into and out of her body used her every muscle and reverberated raggedly through the incubator and the room.

She was incomplete and ill-prepared to face the world. Something, some force had pushed her out of her mother's body before she was ready for life on the outside and this was the result: a shriveled, miniature being, pale except for the bright veins easily seen through her translucent skin, and so fragile that she would probably break in half if anyone dared cuddle her close.

Slowly, Ginny eased herself down into the rocking chair, suddenly exhausted, and as often happens with exhaustion, honesty followed with it.

"I'm sorry," Ginny heard herself whisper to the baby. "I'm so sorry I haven't been in here until now. I was…I was selfish. I cared more about how it would make me feel to see you than about if you needed me to be here so you could get strong. I'm so sorry, darling girl. I love you very much. Please forgive me."

There was no answer from the baby. Ginny wondered darkly if she would ever answer anyone.

"Now, I know you have a lot of healers and people coming in and out of here, taking…taking your blood, taking your temperature, trying to get you to eat so you probably don't want to give anyone anything else—especially someone who was too much of ninny to come and sit with you until now—but I need you to do something for me, okay? Are you listening? You need to get better right now-" Ginny burst into tears, hunching over as her sobs consumed her.

This was why; this was why no one had pushed Ginny to come into the room until now. They all knew that she wasn't strong enough emotionally after the last few days—hell, the last few **months**—to be able to handle this with anything close to control. Not to mention she had slept maybe five hours out of seventy-two and only ate a few bites a day under her mother's stern gaze. It was no wonder her healer was threatening to admit her all over again.

"I'm sorry," she apologized after a few moments. "I s-shouldn't do that in front of you. I'm far too noisy when I cry. Your daddy says I sound like Hagrid's old friend Fluffy when I get going like this."

It might have been nothing, but Ginny was positive a small fist twitched when she had said, "daddy". Gathering herself together, she leaned closer until her hand rested on the incubator opposite the baby's.

"Please, please get better. Your daddy…He is as strong a man as I've ever known. He's kind and crazy, and pigheaded and foolish, but most of all he's so strong. He's proved that in spades since you were born. If you…If you don't get better, though, he won't be strong anymore. He won't be anything anymore. He will not survive losing you. None of us will. We'll all be different people if we don't get to bring you home to spoil like a rotten apple. And we will. We will love you with every ounce of ourselves and we will get you anything you could ever need or want, but you have to be the one to get better. You have to be the one who finds it in you to fight even though it…it must hurt you terribly right now. It's unfair, I know, to lay so much on your shoulders. None of this has been fair to any of us, especially to you, but just because something isn't fair doesn't mean that we can throw our hands up in the air and be done with it. We're Potters. We don't do that kind of thing. We go on, no matter what life throws at us. It's hard, though, trust me. You should have seen me a few months ago when you unexpectedly—very, very, **very **unexpectedly—came into our lives…"

* * *

_**September 1**__**st**__**, 2020**_

King's Cross Station never changed, not entirely. The Muggles they passed on the way to Platform 9 ¾ seemed to be getting plumper as the years went on and some of the clothing they wore seemed more appropriate for a house of ill-repute than for waiting for a train, but dear old King's Cross itself always stayed loud and sooty and alive with excitement every September first for as long as Ginny could remember.

It was bittersweet being here. It always was, saying goodbye to one's children for months at a time, but now especially when it was one of the children's last trip to Hogwarts.

"Mum? Hey, Mum?"

Ginny shook herself out of her reverie to glance over at her youngest son.

"What is it, Al?"

"You looked far away, that's all."

"I'm fine, sweetheart." She squeezed him close. "It's just always difficult to say goodbye, especially when it's all three of you now."

They both looked over to see Lily and her cousin, Hugo, waiting impatiently for Lily's friend, Gigi, to be released from her mother's tight hold. Smiling to herself, Ginny strolled over with Al to aid the situation.

"Nell?" Ginny said to the other mother. Her old friend didn't look up while Gigi pleaded up to Ginny with her eyes for help with escape. "Let her go. She's going to be just fine at school."

Nell sniffed and slowly eased her youngest out of her grasp, keeping a firm grip on her daughter's shoulder with one hand and stroking the girl's chestnut hair with the other. "You're leaving me. I…I can't believe it; especially after all I went through for you. I was in labor with you for thirty-nine hours."

"It was only seven," Ginny chimed in.

"The healers begged me to take something for the pain, but I wouldn't because I didn't want you be harmed by it."

"They begged you to stop telling them what to do."

"I couldn't walk for days afterwards."

"No, her father couldn't because of where your stunner hit him when you found out what he had named her after you passed out. Coincidentally, that's also probably why she's your youngest."

"You are not helping me," Nell growled in Ginny's direction.

"I'm not trying to. I'm trying to get you to let your daughter go and get a start on the best years of her life with the rest of her friends."

"She'll be fine, Aunt Nell," Al added. "James and I will keep an eye on her and Lily, make sure they don't burn the kitchens up over there."

"Oh you're a good boy, Albus." Nell reached up and mushed his cheeks together with her hand. "You're my favorite of your mother's children. Not like this one over here." She glared jokingly at a smiling Lily. "This one is stealing my little dove from me without the slightest bit of guilt, aren't you, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lily nodded promptly while Hugo snickered beside her.

"What did we do," Nell asked Ginny as she reluctantly let her daughter go off with her friends, "to have such impossible, maddening children as the ones we do?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Ginny replied, watching as Al walked over to his trolley to check the cage of his cat, Dickens, once again. "I suppose we just got very lucky."

"I suppose you're right. Where did everyone else run off to? It's almost eleven."

"Well, Ron went off to have words with all of the boys in Rose's year and above so naturally-"

"Rose and Hermione are following him with profuse apologies. And our fair husbands?"

"I believe Harry went with Bart on his way to question the train conductor about his years of experience operating the vehicle your daughter will be boarding soon." Nell choked back another small sob and Ginny wrapped an arm around her. "She will be perfectly fine, I promise."

"I know she will be. She's wonderful and brave and smart; she's so smart, Ginny, but she's young, too. Why does she need to go off to school so far away from us? Sophie never wanted to go to Hogwarts, even with all of James's letters and stories."

"Because Gigi is her own person, just the way you and Bart raised her to be. Be proud of her. How many children are smart enough and mature enough that Hogwarts will let them join in their second year?"

"You mean how many are willful enough that they spend nearly a whole year writing to the Headmaster and breaking down their poor parents' defenses?"

"That as well. I know you don't believe me, but after a little while, once you're used to how quiet the house is and how much more free time you have a part of you is really going to enjoy this. That's how it was for me and Harry last year when Lily was gone with the boys. Then just when you're used to it, summer comes around and your children are fighting in your living room like feral cats over what to listen to over the wireless."

Nell sniffed and dabbed her eyes. "It's just that Gigi's my baby, just like Sophie is; just like your three are for you and Rose and Hugo are for Hermione. They grow up and get taller, but it still feels like they belong in your arms. I don't care if it's at six months or sixty years…"

"It hurts to let them go. You know what though?"

"What?"

"We still have to. The worst part of the job, bar none, but it has to be done."

"Speaking of the worst parts of raising children," Nell said, glancing up at the clock, "I believe it's your turn to go and track down our oldest ones."

"No, no," Ginny argued. "I strongly dispute that. Three days ago at the barbeque, remember? I'm the one who found them at the lake; nestled up against that tree and each other even more. Ergo, it's your turn this time."

"Ah, but you are forgetting about the day after Al's birthday party."

Ginny shut her eyes. "Please don't remind me."

"I think I will. Early morning, the sun just starting to peek up over the horizon, I go out to the yard to squawk at an offending blue jay only to find two pairs of bare feet hanging out of the door to the tree house my husband built with his bare hands. What your son and my daughter were using that tree house for all night was not what Bart had anywhere near his mind for its use, so I wisely and mercifully woke them up and scurried James home before my husband woke up. You and I agreed that counted for three turns. Ergo, it's **your** turn."

"Right." Ginny patted Nell's hand in thanks. "You know I was lying before, right? About us being lucky?"

"Of course you were."

Ginny hadn't been lying and she knew that. Making her way through the crowds on the platform, she knew how blessed she and Harry were for their three children, as difficult as they could all be at times. Thankfully for every window they broke and tantrum they threw, there had been double the smiles and double the cuddles for comfort after a bad dream. They were miracles; James, Albus, and Lily were the true miracles in her life.

_If only it didn't take a miracle for James to keep his lips off of Sophie's when they were together_, she thought tiredly, finally spotting the twosome leaning against a secluded brick wall.

"Ahem." Ginny cleared her throat loudly and the teenagers immediately untangled themselves, red-faced and hair disheveled. James recovered first and gave his mother a broad grin, his eyes sparkling mischievously. Ignoring his antics, she glanced at Sophie. "Your mother was looking for you, dear."

"Okay. I'll, uh, go find her. Make sure she hasn't latched an invisible leash on to Gigi or anything crazy," the girl said, smoothing down her dark curls. She had only taken two steps before James tugged her back and planted another kiss on her.

"James Sirius!"

After another quick peck, he let Sophie go off, her eyes never meeting Ginny's as she hurried away. James casually leaned back against the wall.

"We were just saying goodbye, Mum."

"Really? That's what your tongue was doing down her throat?"

"Do you want the honest answer?" he asked, smiling slyly.

"James, this is not funny. There are children around here and their parents, some of whom I work with." She rubbed a hand down her face, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I know that you and Sophie have a…an adult relationship now. You're both separated most of the year, so I think I've given you a lot of leeway this summer. Mostly because you're of age now and I'm trying to respect that, but son, you need to start acting like an adult if you want me to keep treating you like one."

His face softened and even though it was impossible, Ginny saw such sharp traces of Harry in her son that made her heart sputter.

"I'll try. I will. I know you and Dad are worried that I haven't picked a career path yet-"

"That's not what this is about. Although, truthfully, you will put a halt to some of your father's late night pacing if you do."

"I promise I'll sit down with Nev – I mean, with Headmaster Longbottom this week and start getting a plan together for after graduation. That's important to me. It's just that Sophie is too."

"I know she is."

"Do you…Do you know how important exactly?"

"I know how bright your smile is when you see her walk into a room, and that you go dress shopping with her even though it drives you batty. I also know about a conversation you had with your father last week that I wasn't supposed to know about yet."

"Of course you do," James sighed, shaking his head. "He never keeps anything a secret from you."

"Word of advice: If you're considering something as serious as marriage, you better know what you're getting into, and speaking as someone with about fifteen years under her belt, secrets are not healthy for marriage. Especially if you're both going to be so young."

"We're not going to get married right away. Sophie wants to travel, study some more before we settle down. You and Nell will still have to wait to plan the dream wedding. I just want to ask for her hand during winter break."

"That'll be quite romantic." As soon as Ginny said it, she realized that her son, the same one who used to hide behind her skirt from reindeer at Christmas time and once used her favorite lipstick to write out a birthday card for her, was now old enough to consider taking someone for a wife; the fact that it was the same someone that he had been involved in pretend wedding ceremonies since the age of five made it all the more difficult to comprehend.

"Mum, are you going to cry?"

"No!" She straightened her shoulders to her full height, which was about a head shorter than her son, blinking fast to keep her eyes dry. "I don't cry, not ever. You know that very well."

"Okay then. I'm going to go start loading my things on the train." With a quick hug that ended far too quickly for Ginny, James disappeared back into the crowd.

He would be doing that a lot more from now on, going off on his own and making his own plans for his life. How had it all gone by so fast? To Ginny, it felt like no more than a month or two had passed since he had been a baby, kicking and twirling inside of her, yet in reality he was off to his last year of school, shaving actual hair off his face in the mornings, and getting ready to propose marriage. Every instinct inside of her screamed that he was too young, that it was too soon for him to not need his mother this much, and maybe she was right. Perhaps…

Warm arms wrapped around her chest and tugged her until her back pressed against something solid, her spine relaxing under the beat of a familiar heart.

"He's going to be fine," Harry whispered in her ear. "All three of them will be, I promise."

"You're very confident of that fact every single year."

"And every year I'm right. They've been raised by a wonderful mother." He softly kissed her temple. "So how could they be anything other than wonderful?"

"It's just always hard for the first few weeks after they leave. I put on the brave face for Nell so she doesn't go any crazier and build a dungeon at home to lock poor Gigi in, but I always have the strangest urge when that train pulls away to try and jump on it."

"I do, too."

"They're slipping away a little more as the years go by." She turned in his arms and tucked her head under his chin, burrowing into his chest.

"Yes they are," he sighed.

"Al wants to spend next summer by himself abroad in Beijing at an apothecary. Lily wants dear Phlegm to take her shopping now because I apparently have no sense of fashion. And James…" Ginny groaned, feeling a headache forming at the base of her skull.

"He's a good kid," Harry said, rubbing her back. "He just needs to get focused on the future. Maybe now that it's his last year and he knows that there's no more dawdling and putting things off, he'll get serious."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Sophie will knock the sense into him the same way Nell does for Bart."

Ginny giggled before growing serious again. "Harry, did we let him get away with too much this summer?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the weekends in London with his friends. Letting him practice with the Arrows reserve squad, even though he probably won't get signed, instead of taking a summer job. All that unsupervised time he had with Sophie." She looked up into his eyes; they sparkled with love for her, even if there were a few wrinkles around them nowadays. "Was it too much?"

"Your mum was badgering you at dinner the other night, wasn't she?"

"Perhaps, but perhaps she was also right."

"He checked in with us every morning and night he was in London and even if he doesn't end up playing professionally, he made a lot of good contacts in Quidditch—outside of his famous mum—that will allow him to get a job on someone's staff if that's what he wants to do. As for the other," Harry twirled a finger through her still-shining hair, "I think I would've given almost anything at his age for my biggest problem to be spending too much time with my girl. That's just me, though."

Ginny smiled up at him. He was always the perfect balm for her fear and worries.

"I love you," she told him, going up to her toes to press her lips against his.

"I love you, too." He kept his face close to hers. "And I think-"

"Now that's always dangerous."

"-that maybe some of this melancholy and doubt is actually a bit of guilt over where we will be going off to all by ourselves in a few days' time." His smile became almost lecherous and Ginny blushed a little.

"Harry!"

"Well, there are just not a lot of advantages to being free of one's children for months at a time. We should be grateful for the ones we have, like unencumbered free time to spend at an exotic locale, complete with," Harry let his lips drift down the side of her face, "alcoholic beverages served in coconuts."

"Stop it," she whispered, grinning under his ministrations.

"No Floos from demanding editors or nervous recruits."

"Now you're talking."

His mouth nipped ever so gently at her neck. "Wandering the streets for hours, buying useless, over-priced crap just because we can."

"Naughty, naughty."

"And my personal favorite," his tongue snaked out to lick lightly at her pulse point and her knees threatened to give way, "topless beaches."

Reluctantly she wiggled out his hold and took his hand, leading him back through the throngs of people, trying to settle her racing heart. All these years and children later and her husband could still set her entire being ablaze with a look and a few whispers.

She was the luckiest woman in the world.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into taking another honeymoon with you," she said, leaning against his shoulder.

"Technically, it's the first one."

"No! We went away after we got married, as soon as you were back on your feet."

"We spent a week in Rome. It rained the whole time and we were stuck in a hotel room trying to potty-train James, whom you couldn't bear to leave behind with your mum. Not a honeymoon. Where we're going on Friday? That's a honeymoon."

A loud whistle pierced through the air, alerting all those on the platform that the train would be departing in a few moments, and Ginny sighed, her heart tightening at what was to come.

"Let's go say goodbye to our kids."

They found their way back to their group in time to hear Nell and Bart leaving more instructions with their youngest child.

"…and I will tell you one last time, Georgina Lucas Nixon, that I better receive at least one owl every day from you, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Promise me you will hold on tightly to the stair railings," Bart said, kneeling in front of the girl. "They move very suddenly sometimes and I don't want you breaking any bones."

"If you have to go to the Infirmary for any reason, make sure Madame Pomfrey writes down explicitly every treatment, spell, and potion she used on you so I can know exactly what she was trying before I take over."

"Check the bathrooms every time you walk into one. There are ghosts and ghouls at that school and not all of them are of the female persuasion."

"Don't eat strange foods."

"Don't go hang around with boys."

"Don't touch strange creatures."

"Don't touch any part of any boys."

"Do not get piercings on any part of your body."

"Do not go near a boy or a butterfly will die."

"But most importantly," Sophie told her sister, kneeling down beside her near-hysterical parents in front of Gigi, "have lots of fun. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you all, too." Barely holding back tears, Nell and Bart enveloped their daughters in a giant hug. Just over them, Ron and Hermione were sending Rose and Hugo off with watery eyes of their own and Ginny turned back to her children with a small smile.

"Come on," she told them. "Time for one last squeeze." Albus got another hug from Harry before stepping into Ginny's arms. "Have a great year, sweetheart, and please, just think about-"

"Mum, Jamie's the athlete in our generation, not me."

"You're a fantastic Seeker, though, and I say that as a Quidditch reporter and not as your adoring mother."

"I'm a better potion master. You know when you subbed for Dad as Seeker in school and you caught the Snitch? Remember how you told me your chest felt like afterwards?"

"Of course."

"That's what I feel like every time I funnel a great potion into the vial," he said, pulling back and giving her one of Harry's smiles.

"Fine," she said, smoothing down his impossible hair. "At least promise me that when you go to Hogsmeade with your friends that you'll leave your books in your dorm."

"Deal." He kissed her quickly on the cheek, climbing onto the train as he waved goodbye. "See you at Christmas! Love you!"

"Love you, too. And you," Ginny said, addressing her daughter as Lily sidled up to her. Wrapping her arms around her, Ginny breathed in one last time the hint of Lily's fruit-tinged shampoo. This year might be the last time her daughter was shorter than her. "Watch over both of your brothers for me. I always get nervous when the men in our family are left to their own devices."

"I know. They are quite troublesome, aren't they?"

Ginny choked back a giggle as all of the mischief that Lily had manufactured over the years flashed before her eyes; the girl was half the size of James and had almost doubled his output of trouble. However, since she always ran straight to her father, and since Harry couldn't seem to bear his baby girl's tearful confessions, Lily (mostly) escaped serious punishment. Thankfully, the combination of Hogwarts and age seemed to be tempering her wild nature. This summer especially, Ginny had noticed she was far too busy sketching in her notebook and making plans with Gigi for the fall to be bothered with midnight, unsupervised flights or hiding another stray cat in the attic.

"Be a good girl. And remember, even if your brother doesn't pick you for the Quidditch team, it doesn't mean that he doesn't love you."

"It just means he knows that Quidditch rings are not safe when you're flying near them," James chimed in loudly.

"I was five!" Lily said, glaring at him while Ginny planted a kiss on her head. "And that was the only time I ever crashed, you dumb prat!"

"Lily Luna, mind you language!"

"Well he's being one, Mum!" The girl's cheeks matched her flaming, shoulder-length hair. "What am I supposed to do, pretend he isn't? That's dishonest and you said I'm not allowed to be dishonest."

"You're also not allowed to call your brother that in front of me. Even when he **is** being one," she said, looking pointedly at James. "I want you both to get along at school. It's the last year you'll all be together." She pressed her forehead against Lily's. "Believe me, you'll miss this time when it's gone."

"Muuum…Come on, Gigi and I need to go get good seats away from the Slytherins."

"Okay, okay." Ginny relented and let Lily go. "I don't want you two girls up all night talking in the dorm. You're there to study, not have a year-long sleepover."

"Fine! Goodbye, I love you, and I'll be good until winter!" Lily walked over to the Nixons and helped free Gigi from their grasp, Nell and Bart rising with their eyes quite moist as the two young girls boarded the train, happily chatting together as their adventure began.

"You know I'm going to pick her regardless," James smirked, tilting Ginny's chin up to him. "Even if she couldn't throw the Quaffle more than five feet, I'd still pick my little sister over anyone else out there."

"We know," Harry said, wrapping an arm around James, standing almost shoulder to shoulder with him. "But she'll appreciate it more if she thinks she really earned it. Right, luv?"

"I can't believe this is it," Ginny said, ignoring her husband and speaking to James. "I can't believe this is your last year of school."

"If you want, I can flunk out; repeat this year if that'll make you-"

"Mark my words, young man, if you finish that sentence I will take you over my knee and spank you in front of everyone here. Including your girlfriend," Ginny warned.

"She's not kidding, mate," Harry said. "You know how she gets when her voice sounds like that."

"Yes, I do."'

"My voice does not change when I'm…" Ginny trailed off, her throat closing in as she took in her husband and son in front of her. Harry still had a little height on James, but not by much, probably because James's dark hair was much tamer than his father's. There was naturally more Weasley in the younger man's features as well yet as soon as he started being able to master his Almet abilities to morph his face at the age of twelve, James had been forbidden by his father to change his eyes in any way. He wanted his oldest son to live only with the eyes Ginny had given him and he had. They stared at her now questioningly before he offered her a sad smile as she gathered herself together once more.

Harry took Ginny's hand and pulled her closer, wrapping them all together in a hug. Ginny would never say she loved her oldest more than her others nor did she actually feel that way, but she couldn't deny that there was a bond between herself, Harry, and James that was different from Al and Lily. Without James, she was certain that she and Harry never would have found their back to each other. It was, after all, because of his unexpected life that their family had been created in the first place.

James let go of his parents first. He always did now while Ginny threaded her hand through his to maintain the connection. "Mum, go easy on the Arrows in the column, okay? Hamlin's only a rookie. You can't expect him to be the kind of Keeper Jarvis was. Dad…just stay safe. Let the kids handle all the heavy lifting and bad guy catching," he said, easing away from them.

"I'll try," Harry called back. "Enjoy the year, mate. We're very proud of you. Right, luv?"

Ginny could only nod for fear of bursting into sobs.

"See you in a few months, then." Finally, James was too far away to hold onto his mother without dragging her behind him and he released her hand, turning away from his parents to plant a chaste goodbye kiss on Sophie's lips, under her father's watchful eye, before leaping onto the train with a flourish as his classmates waved goodbye to their families. Hanging outside the door as the train pulled away slowly, he shouted out, "Fair thee well, good parents of Hogwarts youth, and remember this: Should a pink lizard ever ask you for directions to the local grocer's, run away fast and swift as talking animals have quite the odorous breath!" It was a tradition he had started his very first year, crying out something absurd and humorous to the crowd before he left for school. He bowed deeply to the laughter and quizzical looks and disappeared into the train.

"Our son is quite the character," Harry said.

"Yes, he is." It was then she realized that the hand James had been holding was still in midair, waiting for him. She started to lower it to her side, until Harry took it and brought it to his lips. Ron and Hermione were already waving their goodbyes towards Harry and Ginny while Nell followed the train down the tracks, shouting out for Gigi to stay in her seat. "Take me home, Mr. Potter. No lunches or drinks with grown-ups. I think I just want to pull out baby pictures and cry for a few hours."

"Sounds like fun," he said, leading her away towards the portal that would take them back to the Muggle side of King's Cross Station. "Of course I know a much better way to take your mind off of the kids leaving."

"What's that?"

Harry only raised his eyebrows at her; after a moment, her lips managed to turn into a small smile.

* * *

Hours later, after the moon traded places with the sun, Ginny snuggled back against the sheets of her bed, her bare skin finally beginning to cool down.

_He was right_, she thought, her eyes lingering on Harry's chest as he breathed deep and steady, having just succumbed to sleep. _That was much more fun than what I had in mind._

It helped ease her grief that they hadn't done **that** in quite some time. For sure, there were stolen moments when the kids were busy, or quick romps when they both fell into bed after work, almost too tired to see what they were doing, but eight or nine hours to devote just to one another was a rarity in their busy lives. With only a few stops for catnaps or bites of food, Harry had shown her just how much he had missed this aspect of their relationship while she had shown him what she had learned from a certain article in _Witch Weekly_'s annual Amorous Adventures issue.

It was times like these when Ginny was certain that no one in the world was luckier than she. Her children were strong and brilliant, all with kind hearts; her parents and brothers were all in good health; she had good friends who gave her comfort and laughter when she needed it and a job that challenged her just as much today as when she had started. Most importantly, she had Harry beside her to share it all with. He was everything to her, the piece of her heart that could push her forward when everything seemed ready to collapse around her, even on the rare occasions that they struggled with one another. Harry was her strength just as Ginny knew she was his. Their partnership was as close to perfect as it could be, and after all they labored through to come together in the first place, they savored what they had accomplished.

Draping herself across her husband, Ginny placed a kiss over his heart and closed her own eyes, hoping she'd see Harry there splayed out on a beach in her dreams.

_And in a few days, it'll be a reality_, she told herself with a smile.

If she had gone anywhere in her subconscious, it wasn't anywhere she could remember. The loud flapping of wings pulled her out of sleep slowly, but it was Harry straightening up suddenly in bed and gently pushing her off his body that truly woke her.

"What is it?" she grumbled, waving her hand to light the room against the black night streaming in from the windows, and watching Harry stand at the foot of the bed to retrieve a letter with his wand at the ready. Always the Auror, her husband. The cream of their bedroom walls was blinding in the bright light, and she covered her head with the sheet.

"Ginny," he said slowly.

"It better not be the Ministry. You're the head of your department; it's not appropriate for them to be sending you things at this hour anymore, unless it's an emergency which we know it's not-"

"Ginny…"

"-because your lackey, Milton, would be screaming bloody murder through the Floo, waking everyone within twenty miles. Besides, you're on vacation. They shouldn't bother you with-"

"Ginny, it's not from work."

"Then who is it…" A chill she couldn't understand enveloped her as she realized where a letter contacting them this late would come from and she inched out of the safety of the bed to stare at Harry's face, ashen like she had only seen him a very few times. "The school? T-The kids?"

Her voice sparked him into action and bent to pick up his discarded clothing, throwing things on haphazardly as he answered. "James. He's in the Infirmary. Neville said he needs us at Hogwarts right now."

She leapt from the bed, grabbing for stray articles of clothing, not caring if they were hers or Harry's.

_James…My baby…Oh Godric, my baby…_

* * *

Even if it was only less than ten seconds or so, it was the longest Floo travel of Ginny's whole life. Her feet had barely touched the solid stone floors of her alma mater before she raced off out of the Headmaster's office towards the Infirmary, Harry by her side, as a young man with the badge of the Head Boy followed, trying to get their attention, but they paid him no mind. When they reached the double doors of the Infirmary, they each grabbed a handle and pulled, stumbling into the room, their hearts racing with a fear they had never known.

Certainly, the children had all been sick at one time or another at school; Al had even broken his ankle last year during Halloween, but the maladies had always been so mild that neither Harry's nor Ginny's presence was ever required at the school. Until now. For something like this, for something that needed them to come flying here in the middle of the night, it must be something she couldn't imagine, even as her brain tried to bombard her with pictures of ripped flesh and oozing blood.

Such horror was on her mind that Ginny almost cried out with joy when she saw her son lying on one of the crisp beds. Ignoring Neville and the elderly matron he was speaking to, Ginny went straight to her son and knelt beside him, tears slipping down her cheeks as she saw his chest rise and fall.

_He's alive_, she though gratefully, running her hand through his hair; in slumber it was the dark auburn of his birth. Behind her, she felt Harry's hands on her shoulders, squeezing tightly. _He's breathing and he's alive. Everything else can be fixed._

"Harry, Ginny." She heard Neville speak from the foot of the bed and she tore her eyes away from her son to see her old friend, now the newly-appointed headmaster of the school, smiling softly. There was more gray in his hair than there had been when she had last seen him in May. It only made the seriousness of his eyes seem even deeper. "I'm sorry to call you here like this in the middle of the night."

"What happened to him?" Harry asked. "Is he ill? Poisoned or cursed? Are Al and Lily alright?"

"They're fine. We sent them back to their dorm after we found James."

"Found him?" Ginny's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? He was missing?"

"Yes, he was. The Head Boy reported it after the feast was over. James hadn't been at the Gryffindor table, and when we asked the students, no one had seen him since the train. The teachers, the Prefects, and I began conducting a thorough search of the grounds. We were just about to notify you when we received a Patronus from Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks. She found James in her cellar, unconscious and in a puddle of Firewhiskey."

"W-What are you talking about?" Ginny fought to understand, glancing back at her husband in shock. "James doesn't drink. He could barely hold down the shot he took on his seventeenth birthday. Why would he-?" She looked back at her son, hating with a fury how pale he was. "Why would he do something like getting drunk at school?"

"It was more than just a few drinks, Gin," Neville corrected as gently as he could. "When we got him back here to be examined, he was having trouble breathing." Harry gasped in shock and Ginny could hardly breathe herself. "Madame Pomfrey detected that he had a dangerous amount of alcohol in his blood. She worked quickly and was able to extract most of it before it could do any permanent damage. He'll be weak for a few days, but he should make a full recovery."

"Why?" Harry said helplessly, sliding down to sit on the bed next his son's legs. "What could make him…?"

Neville closed his eyes and reached into the pocket of his robes.

"This," he said, holding out a folded letter, "was in his hand when we found him. It was given to him on the train by Peter Barkley. He's-"

"He's a friend of James's. They're on the Quidditch team together and they spent a few weekends in London in this summer with two other boys." Ginny eyed the letter warily. "What does it say?"

"I think it's best if you read it for yourself." Slowly, Harry took the letter and opened it, staring intently at his wife for a moment before he began to read the words that had driven their son into such a state. Unable to bear the silence, Ginny took James's limp hand in hers, kissing it over and over again.

Why had he let go earlier at the train station? No, no, he was the child. She was the mother. Why had **she** let him let go? Why had she let this happen to her son?

"I love you, sweetheart," she told him. It was all she could offer him at the moment, her love, yet it seemed horribly inadequate. "Mummy's here now. Everything will be fine." He didn't stir and she shuddered slightly at his stillness.

"He's only sedated, Ginny," she heard Neville try to comfort her. "He'll be awake soon enough. His body just needed rest to-"

"This can't be," Harry whispered, blinking at the paper. "This…This…"

Caught in between the vicious tug of not knowing and knowing, Ginny finally reached out and grabbed the paper for herself, forcing her eyes to focus on the words in front of her.

_Dear James,_

_I don't know if you remember me from London. My name is Kerri and we met at that pub that you and your friends snuck into in July. I was the girl that Pete knew from his neighborhood, the one you said had on shoes taller than your little sister. You were already a bit tipsy by then. Anyway, we talked that whole night and you came back with me to my flat. You were already gone when I woke up in the morning._

_I'm sure you thought you'd never hear from me again just as I was sure I'd never think of you as anything other than a one night fling, except that something else came of our one night together: I'm pregnant._

_I know that you're still in boarding school and from what Pete said you have a steady girl. This is probably the last thing in the world you want to hear about, but you need to know because whatever I decide to do, I'll need your help, whether it's having the baby or…or not. I'm still not sure yet which is why we need to talk. Pete knows how to get in touch with me when you're ready. Please be ready soon because the decision needs to be made. I can't take living my life with this uncertainty for much longer._

_I'm so sorry we did this to ourselves._

_Sincerely,_

_Kerri Smithfield_

"It's not true," Ginny said firmly as soon as she was done reading. She put the letter on the bedside table, out of her sight and tried to push the horrible words out of her mind along with it. "She's lying, whoever this girl is. She's a liar. Or it's a trick. A…A prank his friends were playing on him that went too far."

"Maybe someone trying to hurt me through him," Harry wondered out loud. "Maybe an old Voldemort supporter or someone I arrested recently."

Neville was quiet for a long moment before he asked, "How can you both be sure it's not true?"

"Because he's been in love with the same girl since was seven years old. Because he'd never betray her or try to hurt her by doing something like this. Because this is not what we raised him to be, so it has…" Ginny stopped talking as Neville's gaze left hers briefly. "What is it?"

"Spit it out, Longbottom," Harry added when Neville stayed quiet, rising to his feet.

"It's just," the headmaster tried to explain, looking down at his shoes, "when he's here at school, he…he flirts. A lot. With a lot of different girls."

"So he's friendly," Ginny said, straightening her son's bedcovers. "He's always been friendly. There's nothing wrong with that. It doesn't mean he got some girl that we've never met pregnant."

"Sometimes it's more than flirting." Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could do the same to her ears as Neville continued. "Sometimes it's a girl giving him a quick victory kiss after a match. Sometimes it's him and another girl sitting too close together in a secluded corner of the library. Sometimes it's catching him and yet another girl in a broom cupboard or an empty classroom with wrinkled clothing."

"Stop talking," Ginny ground out, her hands still on the bedcovers, trembling with rage as she glared at her friend. Harry stalked past Neville to stare blankly out a window.

He wasn't lying to them. Ginny, her anger at him abating as quickly as it had come, knew that, with all they'd been through, Neville would never lie to them, but how she wished he would, because hearing and accepting the truth seemed to be far worse than any lie. Her son, her wonderful son whom she adored beyond reason, was something else than she had ever imagined him to be. That he could be so careless with the feelings of someone he claimed to love was painful, physically painful to the point where Ginny thought she'd be sick. Because it was too much to bear, knowing these things about her son. It made him seem callous and cruel, something she had never, ever wanted him to be.

It made him seem like someone Ginny had vowed he would never be.

"He's not a bad kid. He's not at all. There are students here who do far worse than him. I just think in James's mind that whatever happens here at school doesn't count for anything real."

"Well, it is real," Harry said, coming back to them. There was no anger on his face, only defeat. "It's very real and it seems that he'll be dealing with the consequences of his actions soon enough."

"Yes, he will," Neville agreed. "Unfortunately, some of those consequences are going to be administered by me. He left the school without permission and got intoxicated. That's grounds for expulsion."

"Is that what you'll do?" Ginny asked quietly from her place by her son.

Neville tapped his fingers against the brass bedpost, deep in thought. "He's suspended for a week," he finally said. "You two can take him home to Hastom so he can recuperate there and try to get everything sorted out with this girl. When that's been addressed, if he still wants to, James can return to Hogwarts, but he'll be kept on probation for the remainder of the year. That means no Hogsmeade visits and no activities, including Quidditch."

"Thank you." Ginny knew it was probably more than James had a right to under the circumstances, but at least he had a chance at preserving his education and his future.

As spotty as that future appeared to be at the moment.

"You're welcome." Neville kissed the top of her head and held out his hand for Harry to shake. "Madame Pomfrey cleared him to leave whenever you're ready. She's already sending some potions to your house, which he'll need to take when he wakes up. One of you should also stay with him for the night to monitor his breathing just in case. You also should stay close to him in case…in case this wasn't just an isolated incident or drinking too much on accident. And he should be checked over by his regular healer in a couple of days."

_His regular healer is the mother of the girl he's apparently been stepping out on. Not so sure he should be in a room with Nell and sharp instruments for the foreseeable future. _

Ginny was sure it would have been hilarious if it wasn't so awful.

"Thanks. Can you please tell Al and Lily we'll write to them tomorrow?"

"Sure, Harry. If there's anything else I can do to help, just let me know." With that, he left the Potters alone in the dark Infirmary with their son and their ever-darkening thoughts.

"She sounds Muggle," Harry said after a time.

Ginny wiped her red eyes with both hands and looked over at him. "What?"

"The girl. The one…The one who wrote the letter. She sounds Muggle."

"How do you figure?"

"If she was a witch, she would've written James herself or used the Floo or contacted him through some other means. If she had to go through Peter, it probably means she's not magical. She may not even know anything about our world."

"And that matters because?"

"It might later on if she decides to keep…keep the child."

"We don't know for sure that she really is pregnant, and even if she is, it might not be his."

"It's something we need to talk about."

"No it isn't. Not right now. We just need to get James home," Ginny said, getting slowly to her feet.

"And then what?"

"I don't know."

"We need to try and figure-"

"I need him home, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, her voice bouncing off the still walls as all of the tension of the past hour erupted out of her. "I need him home under my roof where I know he's safe and he can't hurt himself again! That's the only thing we need to concern ourselves with! I don't care about nine months or nine days or nine fucking minutes from now, I just need to take my son home! Do you understand?!"

Her husband aged ten years during her outburst. When her breathing was finally under control again, he pulled her to him and crushed her until she sagged against him.

"I have absolutely no idea how yet," Harry whispered to her in a trembling voice, "but we're all going to get through this. Okay?"

_Please don't be lying to me, luv. I won't survive it if you're wrong._

"Okay," she said out loud.

They held on to each other for some time before Harry finally pulled back, stopping to use his thumbs to wipe underneath her eyes. When he was finished, he stepped closer to their son and bent over to pick him up from the bed.

"Don't you want to use a spell or-"

"I've got him," Harry grunted, easing up slowly as he struggled to balance the weight of his almost fully-grown son in his arms. "I've got him, Gin." Together, they walked slowly out towards the nearest fireplace to head home.

It had been perfect. Her whole life, the entirety of her existence, had been perfect only a few hours ago and now it was as far from that as one could get.

And the unraveling had only just begun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry it took so long, but we're finally ready to continue! Now, this chapter is, unfortunately, edited by me b/c I wasn't able to get in touch with my beta. Any mistakes in grammer, spelling, or puncuation are all on me and I hope they're not too bad. If there's anyone out there who would be willing to lend a hand for beta duties in future chapters, I'd really appreciate it. **

**Please enjoy and I pronmise to try and make the wait not so long in the future. Since I don't anticipate being ready for anything new until January, everyone have a peaceful holiday and a happy New Year! Enjoy!  
**

* * *

"_**We're running out of time, Harry," Ginny heard Nell say through the haze of agony that refused to budge an inch. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing else we can do at this point. Her body can't fight against the infection any longer. We need to use an extensive combination of charm work and potions to eliminate it, and we can't do that unless…" The healer sighed heavily. "There's just no other way."**_

_**Everything inside her, every bone and every bit of muscle, felt as if they were trying to break free from the shell of her skin and all she could do was lie back on the hospital bed, covered in sweat and blankets yet still shivering, her teeth chattering beyond her control.**_

"_**B-But you can't…it isn't…there has to be something else you can do! A different potion treatment or…or a spell that you haven't tried-"**_

"_**Listen to me!" Ginny could only watch through hooded eyes as Nell grasped Harry's face in her hands. "She won't last through the night unless we act now. We've done everything we could to avoid this, but it's time to accept what needs to happen. Ginny will die if we don't."**_

_**The all-too-familiar blackness swallowed her whole again until she felt a trembling hand ran through her soaked hair and lips press against her forehead. "I'm sorry, luv," Harry whispered. "I know you wanted to-"**_

"_**Don't," she protested weakly. This couldn't happen. She had fought so hard. If the healers just gave her a little more time to recover, she knew she could find a way to rally. "Please don't do this. Please…"**_

"_**I'm so sorry, Ginny. We just…We need you more. The k-kids and I need you more."**_

"_**Do…Don't…." Even as she tried to argue, she felt the bed being moved and she along with it, Harry never leaving her side. No one heard her or if they did, they didn't stop to listen. That was when she realized that she couldn't win; it wouldn't matter if she could yell or scream or beg. No one would hear her.**_

_**It was over. She had lost. She had failed him.**_

_**Gathering the strength from somewhere deep down, she lifted a hand to the slight swell of her belly, hoping that he wouldn't be scared.**_

"_**I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said. "Mummy's sorry."**_

* * *

"I'm sorry," Ginny mumbled, her eyes closed. With a start, she woke up and took in her surroundings, the memories from the past creeping back from whence they came.

There was quiet throughout the bedroom of her son. Except for the steady breathing of James, Ginny heard nothing but the soft wind coming through the open windows as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Even nature knew now she needed a peaceful night of nothing more than watching James inhale and exhale. She needed the peace to gather her strength together because her son would need her at her strongest if she was going to help him find his way through the mess he had created for himself.

Shifting restlessly in the love seat she had transfigured out of an old knit cap, Ginny let her head fall back against the pale blue wall. The room had been a shrine to the Appleby Arrows since he was eight years old and no matter how often Ginny had tried to sneak a hint of green in, James had been resolute on who his Quidditch devotion belonged to. His mind had been set and there was nothing else to be done, just like with everything else in his life. James would always listen, take someone else's opinion into consideration before he formed his own, but once he did make a choice, it was law.

She could only hope that he hadn't made any kind of decisions already, in the precarious state he was in; not when she wasn't anywhere near ready to try and help guide him to where he needed to go. Not she knew where that was exactly. Six hours after she and Harry had brought him home and the answers were still proving to be elusive. It didn't help any that Ginny herself could still hardly wrap her mind around the fact of what her son was when he thought no one of consequence was watching him.

_How could he? _Ginny thought for the hundredth time, shutting her eyes while knowing it was futile to attempt to sleep again._ We raised him to be respectful and kind and decent. I know Harry talked with him at length when he and Sophie got serious two years ago about what relationships entailed and this…this was not it._

She was so furious with James that she couldn't even let herself fully acknowledge it. If she were to, she was terrified that she would unleash upon him a torrent of profanity and bitterness that she would never be able to take back, no matter how much she'd apologize for it later. A part of her desperately wanted to. How could she not? In one fell swoop, he had given away his entire future for something baseless and demeaning: a few moments of sweat and pleasure with a girl he had only known for two or three hours.

"Jamie, what were you thinking?" Ginny whispered to him out loud.

"Probably nothing he'd repeat in our company." She startled slightly at the sound of Harry's voice coming from the doorway. He tried to smile and held up a full teacup for her. "Thought you could use this," he said, handing it to her as he crouched down beside her.

"Thank you." She took a sip and let the caffeine try and do its own magic.

"You should try and sleep for more than twenty minutes. I'll stay with him."

Her dream still nudged at her consciousness and she fought to keep her face neutral, not wanting to worry her husband any more than he needed to be. "If you wanted me to sleep, you should have laced this with a little something extra."

Harry's face darkened as he looked over at their son. "I got rid of all the draughts and liquor in the house," he told her in a low voice. "Just in case."

Just in case their son was truly suicidal over what Kerri Smithfield had informed him of. Ginny shivered and curled herself further under the light blanket thrown over her shoulders. "That's probably for the best."

"We should take him to see someone when he's stronger. A mind healer or maybe a counselor."

Ginny snorted derisively. "Merlin knows he's certainly got the genes for a mental breakdown, thanks to me."

"That wasn't what I meant, luv." Harry squeezed her knee in support. "I just meant with what he's done already, I don't want to take any chances with his life. Especially if the risk is coming from him."

He was being kind, her husband. It was of the things she loved most about him, his ability to look at her and not see all her faults. She wasn't as lucky as him. It was as easy to see as bright stars on a clear night that James had been "gifted" with some sense of the depression she had suffered from so long ago. And if he had gotten something that awful from her, then chances were the man she had created him with had left something else just as destructive in her son as well.

"So…So you haven't thought about…?" Her fingers curled around his hand, the familiar band of his wedding ring cooling her skin as she struggled to speak.

"Thought about what?"

She smirked at her husband, completely miserable; her husband that had never done anything to deserve his troubles, many of which seemed to stem from her. "About where our son could have picked up these nasty habits of his he kept a secret from us."

Harry settled more firmly on the floor next to her before he answered. "You mean Lionel?" he finally asked. "That's why you think he's done what he has all these months?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "No, I don't think Lionel Dresden had any culpability in this."

"You're telling me it hasn't crossed your mind in the past few hours that Lionel's at least somewhat responsible for how James has behaved?"

"I'm telling you I try to think of Lionel Dresden as little as I possibly can," Harry corrected her. "To be honest, I think of him once a year, on James's birthday, and that's only to be thankful that for of all his massive shortcomings as a person, he was able to do one thing absolutely right."

"Harry…"

"James has never met him. They've never spoken or had any kind of contact. There's no reason to look at what James has done and compare it to Lionel in any way."

"The blood, Harry. What about the blood? We pick up traits and leanings from our families that have to do with our magic. Look at Teddy; he's a Metamorphagus because he came from one and now he has a child who's one. Fleur and her sister still have Veela powers they've passed on to their kids," Ginny tried to reason. "Hermione even told me once that Muggles think that a lot of their health issues are born from their lineage. Every part of us, from our hair color to what we like to eat, to how long we might live, is tied to what we're born from. So who's to say that this side of James didn't come from-?"

"He had a choice," Harry insisted softly. "We all have choices; we all lend a hand to Fate where our lives are concerned." He shook his head, the weariness almost permeating from his bones. "You're starting to sound like those sympathizers who say that Tom Riddle had no choice in becoming who he was; that just because he came from Salazar Slytherin's bloodline, it meant he had no say in becoming as evil as he was. Or, just for fun, how about using me as an example?"

"You?"

"I was related to the Durselys by blood. I grew up around them for ten years or so, listening to them say how anything that was out of the ordinary or that besmirched dull perfection in any way was a criminal offense. Why didn't I grow up to be a stiff shirt that raged against anyone who wore pinstripes with polka dots?"

"Because your parents' blood was good," Ginny mumbled stubbornly. "They were kind and decent. They chose you over themselves. Their blood was good."

"It wasn't perfect. Look at my dad. He spent years picking on Snape just because he was different from my dad and Sirius. I mean, Snape was barely eleven years old when it started. He hadn't turned to the Dark Arts yet or declared himself for Voldemort. What gave my dad the right to treat Snape the way he did?" Even though she hated his blasted logic, she put her teacup aside and ran a loving hand through his hair. She know how guilty he felt speaking of his father this way whenever the subject came up, but it was the truth as he saw it. "My dad made the choice to ostracize a kid and partly because of that, that same kid ended up going down a terrible route he almost couldn't save himself from. I was treated like rubbish by the people that were supposed to love me and thanks to that, I think I've always tried to help people when they needed it; not because of a prophecy or because I was the Boy Who Lived, but because I know what it feels like to be the one in need. And James…" Harry sighed and together they looked on as their oldest slept, oblivious to them and the strain awaiting him when he woke up. "We raised him his whole life to know that betraying the people he loved wasn't something he should ever strive to do. He did it anyway, though, and now he's going to see soon how much his life will change."

"I just…I just want to be able to protect him somehow," Ginny explained. "I'll always see him as this little boy who needed me to do everything for him, needed me to keep him safe. If I can just find a way that this whole mess isn't his fault, then maybe I can find him an easier way to get through it all."

"Ginevra," he whispered, drawing her down onto the floor with him. He waited patiently until she looked at him. "If everything in that letter is true, there's a real possibility that James is going to be a father soon." She tried to look away, but Harry kept a firm grip on her. "He's going to be responsible for someone the way we've always been for responsible him. Is this really the time we should start teaching him to look for the easy way out of things?"

"No," she said, her breath hitching. Sighing, she melted against him and let herself be enveloped in his arms. "But we're his parents. I don't know if I can just stand by silently while his life hangs in the balance like this. I feel like I have to do **something** so this doesn't break him."

"Maybe it won't be as bad as we think," Harry whispered into her hair, running a hand up and down her back. "Maybe it won't be his and even if it is, this girl might not keep it."

"You mean adoption?" Her stomach twisted at the thought of a part of her family, a part of **her**, being out in the world alone without them. Though if the alternative to it was watching as her son's life imploded around him, maybe it was the best course of the action, no matter how against her heart it went.

"That," Harry said, "or maybe even…something else."

Ginny's blood ran cold at the unspoken word and she pulled back to find him trying to avoid her eyes. "So she should abort it? Our first grandchild? Is…Is that really what you would want to happen?"

"I want my son to have every opportunity in life and if he becomes a father at eighteen then-"

"Weren't you just saying that he shouldn't be looking for the easy way out of this? That he needed to take responsibility? How is doing away with an innocent life because it came about at an inconvenient time the responsible thing?"

She could see him choosing his words very carefully before he started talking. "It's not the same as what happened with you. You wanted...that baby." Even after all these years, Harry still couldn't bring himself to say the name of the son they'd lost. "This girl, Kerri, she might not feel as you do and if she doesn't want to continue with the pregnancy, we have to respect that decision." Tugging her back against him, he resumed his gentle stroking of her back. "Nothing about this is going to be easy, luv. That's why we have to stick together and be there for one another, especially James."

"Even if I want to squash his head in with my bare hands?" Ginny asked with a watery chuckle.

"Even then," Harry agreed.

Their laughter faded away slowly and Ginny dared to ask what she hadn't let herself think of. "What about Sophie? And Bart and Nell? What is this going to do to all of them?"

"I don't know."

"They'll hate us," she continued, so matter-of-fact about the whole thing she should have been shaking herself. "Sophie will be devastated. She's loved James since they were toddlers. She's trusted him just as long. I don't know how she'll ever be able to look at him again. And her parents…" She wiggled out of Harry's grip to look on at James again; he moved ever so slightly, but didn't open his eyes. "How will any of them ever forgive him? Or us, for that matter?"

"We've been a part of each other's lives for twenty years. We're closer than most actual families." His eyes were tired yet still resolute. "We've survived too much to let anything divide us."

Ginny nodded stoutly. "Yeah, well I'd agree with you if the anything wasn't our kids."

There was no response to be made to that and if there was, Harry didn't seem to have one.

* * *

The sun was just coming up when James finally began to stir. There was still enough darkness in the room that Ginny wasn't entirely sure if he was moving or if she had reached the hallucination stage of exhaustion. Aching and crumpled back up in the armchair, she watched in breathless silence as his arms and legs began to shift under the light weight of his comforter. Then, at last, the loveliest sound she could imagine wafted into her ears:

James, groaning loudly as he opened his eyes for the first time all night. Ginny hung her head and sighed, the raw ache in her chest easing ever so slightly.

He was awake. She could find a way to handle the rest as long as James was here and healthy. In three steps, she was sitting next to him on the bed, rubbing his arm comfortingly as he struggled to orient himself.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she murmured. "You're safe. You're here at home."

"H-H-Home?" James choked out, blinking rapidly. His color was off, almost the shade of spoiled milk, and his breathing was still labored.

"You need to take some potions now. Can you sit up for me?" He either didn't hear her or lacked the strength to. She wished she hadn't sent Harry off to fetch some groceries all the way in Taunton, but it was still early and the closest Tesco was there. Thinking the kids would all be in school and that she and Harry would be lounging on a beach somewhere, the cupboards were nearly bare; since she didn't trust the type of food either of their spell work would make in their states, shopping had been their only choice.

_Well, if there is a plus to this whole mess, it's that I won't have to deal with driving myself into a tizzy over how I look in a two-piece at my age_, she thought, wrapping her arms around James's torso. With a deep breath, she fought to push his limp body up against the headboard.

There'd be no tropical vacations, cuddling with Harry as the sun baked them to a golden crisp; no trips to London for shows and late dinners; no jetting home for a frantic shag on the couch under the guise of taking a lunch break from work. No freedom waiting for them in the near future. If the events of the future played themselves out, there'd be a new member of their family soon, one that Ginny may need to lend a hand in raising. That languid phase of parenthood they thought was coming when Lily went off to school could soon be over. The advent of this potential child would upturn not only James's future, but Ginny's own. Goodness, if the absolute worst came to be, (and given her luck lately, there was every reason to believe it would) she and Harry could end up raising the poor child themselves.

She sucked in a sharp breath after she finally had James situated. If her life depended on it, she would swear to every god and every heaven they inhabited that her son would never, ever abandon his child. The only problem with that vow was that twenty-four hours ago, she would have sworn the same thing about his faith and devotion to the girl he loved. She had no idea who he was anymore; her own son, her firstborn, and he had fallen so far she hardly recognized him anymore.

Failure still had that nasty, bitter tang to it that Ginny remembered all too well. She had never planned on associating it with her role as a mother.

Grabbing a vial from the bedside table, she uncorked it and prodded her son again. "Open up, James. You have to drink this."

He started gagging as soon as the potion hit his tongue. "Ugh!" James choked out, turning his head away.

"No, none of that. Drink it down in one shot. It won't be pleasant, but it'll be quick." Closing his eyes, he let his mother pour the liquid down his throat and managed to hold it down. "Good boy. Now just two more."

"What? Mum…"

"Come on now, quick as a flight on a Firebolt." Moving deftly, she got him to take the last potions with only minimal fuss. "There you are," she said, gently patting his cheek. "According to the notes from Madame Pomfrey, those will help stabilize your liver functions and let you get your strength back quicker."

Already the potions were taking effect. Ginny could see his skin starting to darken closer to normal and his eyes clearing as they darted around the room. "What am I doing here?" he asked, his voice ragged but lucid.

"You…You had…" She waited until his eyes finally focused in on hers before she smiled at him, the pain in her chest roaring back to full throttle as the seconds passed and he grew more and more confused. "Jamie, what's the last thing you remember?"

He thought long and hard, unconsciously reaching for his mother's hand. "I was, um, I was on the train and…and we were sitting in the compartment, me and a couple of blokes, just messing around. Then Pete reached into his bag and pulled out a let-" His lips kept moving but no sound came out. His breath quickening, he followed his mother's gaze to the bedside table; the rolled-up paper was sitting among the empty vials, its outward innocence belied by the powerful words it held inside it. Ginny felt his hand start to tremble in her own and she rubbed it between hers as if he were coming in from the cold.

"Listen to me, son. It's going to be alright," she soothed. "Your father and I are both here for you for whatever-"

"How did this happen?" James groaned, pulling his knees up and dropping his head between them. "How could I be so bloody stupid?! I-I-I can't….A baby? There's no way…" His breathing picked up even more and Ginny feared he would hyperventilate. She leaned into him, putting her lips to his forehead.

"You," she said with as much conviction as she could muster, "are going to be just fine. I will not accept anything else except that. These next weeks and months are going to be… well, I would say difficult, but that's just not a strong enough word."

"Mum, I can't-"

"Shut your mouth and listen to me, young man. I am your mother and even though I have no earthly idea why you've done the things you've done, I still love you. Your dad still loves you. There's nothing you can ever do that will change that. You can break our hearts until they're fractions of dust and we will love you." She tipped his chin and her eyes begged to shed tears when she took in the misery painting her son's face, but she couldn't do that. Like so many other times over their years together, he needed her to be strong for him now. "Now a lot of things in your life are going to change, far too many: your schooling, your relationships, really your entire lifestyle. No matter what decision this…you and this girl make about the baby, nothing will be as it was before. We can't control that. The only thing we can control is how we face it from here on in. Do we run from it, hide away like cowards, or do we face it head-on, like generations of Potters before us?"

Her words were meant to prop him up; to be the flint his match needed to strike against before it ignited in persistence and hope that would awaken his own sense of strength, and in a way her speech worked. Slowly, his breathing righted itself and his tremors eased to where they were not noticeable anymore. His eyes, though, fell away from hers and he took his hand from hers, his face etching itself into a rigid mask of granite.

"Jamie?" Ginny asked as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Using the loo," he grunted, his arms rigid as he fought to push himself upright.

"Here, let me-"

He shrugged her hand off his shoulder, gripping the dark oak of his bedpost until his knuckles were white and his legs were steady underneath him. "I've got it, Mum."

"Your dad will be home soon. If you can wait a few minutes-"

"Well, my bladder can't and I'm not about to take a piss in front of my mum." The frost in his voice was such she wanted to wrap the comforter from the bed around her shoulders and huddle in as close to her body as she could. Every bit of him—his tone, his posture, even his hair that refused to shift to its customary black—screamed that this angry, darkening creature in front of her wasn't her James. He wouldn't accept her help now, wouldn't dare look at her even when she knew how much he needed her.

Even when she knew how much **he** knew he needed her.

With his back turned away from her, she waited until he was a few paces from the door before she pulled out her wand and whispered the spell under her breath. James stiffened almost immediately and used the doorjamb for support as he glanced over his shoulder.

"What did you just do? What was that?"

"A spell to monitor you so I can know your vitals, your heart rate and whatnot, when I'm not in the room with you."

"I didn't say you could do that," James spat out, facing her fully.

Narrowing her eyes, Ginny fisted her hand tightly around her wand. "In case you didn't notice, I didn't ask your permission. You're in my house and as long as you live here, you are my responsibility. I'm sure you don't remember, but you partook of quite a bit of alcohol last night, enough that it almost…" She fought back against the bile that rose up her throat as nearly said the words out loud. She couldn't do that. It made them far too real. When she recovered, she continued, "So until your father and I decide otherwise, you will be monitored twenty-four hours a day."

The heavy cloud of disinterest in James's eyes unclouded for a fraction of a second as he heard his mother's words and saw briefly the terror that marred her lovely features. The small glimmer buoyed Ginny's hopes and she took a small step forward; at her movement, James backed away.

"Do you really think," he said in a low voice, "that I'm going to go break the mirror over the sink and off myself in there?"

"I don't know, James," Ginny admitted softly, "and that's the whole point. I feel like I don't know anything about you anymore."

"Well," he snorted as he left the room, "you know I'll be in the loo for a while. I hope that's enough for you right now."

She wasn't sure how long she stood there alone in her son's room, her wand hanging limply from her hand. It wasn't until she heard the familiar crack of Apparition over the hum of the shower that she shook herself out of her daze and hurried downstairs to her husband. He was just setting the grocery bags on the table when she stopped short in the kitchen.

Harry's head shot up at the sight of her. "Is he awake?" he asked.

"A few minutes ago," she said, amazed her voice didn't waver.

"Is he alright? Can he talk or move?" Harry brushed past her and headed for the stairs. "Why did you leave him alone?"

"Monitoring Charm. He's…He's…shower…"

"Gin? What is -?"

She didn't even let him get the words out before she threw herself in his arms, sobbing away as much of the fear and anger she had accumulated in the past twelve hours into his neck as she could while he kept her safe in his familiar embrace.

* * *

It wasn't until she was cleaning up after lunch later in the day that Ginny felt some shred of herself come back to her. And even though her head, her eyes, and yes, her heart still ached something awful, she decided she was done with sobbing for the time being. Curling up into a ball with a box of tissues would be so easy right now, but Harry was right: James needed them to help him make the right choices, not the easy ones so the time to buck up at had come.

It would help if she had someone she could talk to right now, someone who was a mother herself. For as wonderful as Harry was, through no fault of his own, he didn't understand what it was to watch the life that had been borne from her own body, the life she had nurtured and guarded for every moment of every day for almost eighteen years, stumble and fall about, like James was now. Hermione would understand. So would her mother, her sister-in-laws, even Luna to some extent. Nell most certainly would. To receive that comfort, however, would mean she would have to say out loud awful things, things no mother who was considered good would ever have to face, much less admit to.

On bare feet, Harry padded back up to the sink, putting the tray with a full bowl of tomato soup and a glass of milk next to her. "He was still asleep," he said before she asked.

"Was he really asleep or just pretending?" Ginny asked. Waving her wand, all of the dishes started scrubbing themselves as she joined Harry in the living room, folding herself next to him on the old burgundy couch. They were both showered and had changed into fresh clothes: Ginny in shorts and a tank top, and Harry in a worn t-shirt and a pair of old jeans that usually had her salivating. This was not the time for it, though.

"Probably pretending, but maybe he's a good enough actor that he'll actually fall back asleep. He still looks so weak."

She nudged his knee gently. "I thought you were the one who was all for him taking the reins and being responsible. That would require him to be awake."

"Yeah, well then we each tried to talk to him and he started looking like every piece of the world is pressing down on his shoulders when he was awake; now I just want to tell him bedtime stories until my voice is gone so he'll stay asleep." He rubbed underneath his glasses. "What I think is best for him changes by the hour now. I can't even keep up."

She unfurled her feet into his lap, smiling a little when his hands automatically went to the unasked task of massaging them. "Parenthood's fun, isn't it?"

"A rollicking, good ole' time. Why did we even have kids in the first place?"

"Personally, I just liked having the enormous cleavage."

"I think the draw for me was having people urinate, defecate, and vomit all over me."

"Sometimes all at once. Remember when James was four and he and Al both had that stomach bug together? If either of us put them down to so much as sneeze, they screamed the roof off the house."

"Literally, actually."

"What do you mean?"

Harry smiled himself, digging the palm of his hand against her heel. "One night, the buggers somehow managed to use their accidental magic to pop a hole in the roof of the nursery. It must have rained in four inches. I don't know how you slept through it."

"Being on my feet for the prior three days probably helped."

"I had to Floo Hermione to help me with the spell work and then had to promise to keep Rosie with us for a weekend to make sure she wouldn't tell you."

Ginny laughed, her first real laugh of the past day, at the thought of Harry with both their screaming sons in his arms in Al's nursery with a torrential downpour coming down over his head, soaking him and their children head to toe. Harry joined her and for a moment—one shiny, sparkly moment—everything was as it should be, perfect and peaceful. Their children smiled down happily at them from the many pictures gracing the cream-colored walls; their friends and extended family loved them without judgment; and the rest of the world looked to them as model parents, the ones to aspire to be like. It was a lovely moment.

Until Ginny turned her head to the side and saw the thin folder Harry had had sent over from the Ministry sitting on the coffee table, waiting for them to open it, and her laughter melted into a quiet sigh of melancholy. Perfect would need to be redefined for them. It might be best to start with it now. She picked it up and stared at the Ministry insignia stamped on the front.

"Kerri Smithfield," she said out loud. "She's all in here."

"Everything the Muggle Liaison Office could find on her, at any rate."

"What did you tell them you needed it for?"

"She stumbled upon two wizards trading Dark artifacts, but disappeared into a crowd before they could catch her. We need to find her and interview her for any information she may have."

"That's going to get you into a spot of trouble, isn't it?" He simply raised his eyebrows at her, telling her how little he cared. "All right then, let us meet the young woman who helped to ruin our son's life," she said, opening the folder up and reading out loud:

**Muggle Liaison Office**

**Official Documentation of Muggle Number 2AW5110**

Name: Kerrington Elizabeth Smithfield

**DOB: September 18****th****, 2000**

**Birthplace: Queen Charlotte's Hospital, Hammersmith, London**

**Address: Apartment 5A, 211 Berkshire Street, Greenwich, London**

**Mobile No: Unknown**

**Education: General Certificate of Secondary Education, issued June 11****th****, 2017**

**Occupation: Baker/ Cake Decorator for Easton Pastries, Greenwich, London**

**Mother: Samantha Smithfield, 1981-2009**

**Father: Unknown**

**Siblings: Unknown**

**Next of Kin: Unknown* **

**Marriage: None listed**

**Religion: Unknown **

**Magical Bloodline: None found**

**Magical Acquaintances: Gemma Barkley and her son, Peter Barkley **

**Knowledge of Existence of Magic: Doubtful**

***Muggle Number 2AW5110 was turned over to the custody of protective services after mother's death where she remained until she completed her secondary education. No claims were made to the state by anyone of her relation.**

The words bled past Ginny's eyes, unable to filter from her voice to her head through the picture she saw on the next page of a young woman with long, honeyed locks streaked with a deep splash of turquoise on one side, all of it pulled back away from her angular face. It was hard to gauge her height from the moving photo, but she was slender and graceful as she walked along a nondescript, busy street, with high cheekbones and a clenched jaw, a tattered leather bag over her shoulder. Her head was down so Ginny wasn't sure what her eyes looked like. It appeared she had some piece of jewelry hanging from her thin, pointed nose that matched the assortment of piercings in her ears, and her skin was paler than anyone Ginny had ever seen in her life.

She had a face. Kerri Smithfield had a history and a face, and at this moment was walking around with the firstborn child of Ginny's son growing in her belly.

"She's real," Ginny whispered.

"That she is."

"She seems…" Ginny trailed off. How was she supposed to know this girl by reading only a few lines about her?

How was Ginny to know if the girl was supposed to be a part of their family?

Harry shrugged and took the folder back from her. "Self-sufficient, if nothing else," he offered, perusing the page himself. "I mean, it sounds like she's been on her own since she was sixteen, maybe even before that. Hopefully she's rational and mature about all this."

Ginny leaned her head back against the arm of the sofa and moaned, her headache pounding back to the forefront. "Someone who's rational and mature dyes their hair blue and sticks pieces of metal into their face?"

"Our son and our godson change their hair whenever the mood strikes them. That's not an indication of anything."

"Yes, but they're magical. It's different for Muggles."

"How so?"

"It just is."

"You can't just make ass-"

"Harry, please. It just is," she insisted, bringing a hand to her aching forehead. He didn't push her any further, just rubbed his hand up and down her bare thigh soothingly.

The ugly truth was Kerri Smithfield could have been a world scholar who cured all the ails of the entire population of Great Britain, while in her spare time placing abandoned puppies in homes with loving children, and Ginny still would have been able to find cause to slap her across the face. She had been so focused on James and the mistakes he had been making that she hadn't given much thought to the girl who had done her own part to instigate this crisis. Now, though, with a face and a body—one that probably had tattoos running down the length of her spine—Kerri Smithfield, Ginny decided right then and there, would someday very soon have to answer for her unintentional yet highly destructive crimes against the Potter family.

"Look," she heard Harry say and popped her head up, "it's like I said before: she might not keep it and if that's the case, no matter our personal feelings, we'll deal with that. But if she does have the baby, do you really want to make this harder on James by being brassed off with the girl who's carrying his child before you even meet her?" His eyes rested on hers, full of expectation and understanding.

"Fine," she said with a sweet smile. "If she becomes…someone important to our son, I will welcome her accordingly."

_With a good, backhanded smack right across her cheek_, Ginny thought to herself, laying down again and grinning as the small sense of satisfaction trickled through her. _That would feel better than a bloody forty-foot vertical drop on the old Firebolt right about…Wait a minute. She's pregnant with my grandchild so technically I'd be hitting my grandchild. Can't have that now, can we?_

The sound of heavy footsteps coming down from the stairs roused Ginny from her musings and she picked her head up enough to see James making his way down towards them, dressed in an old t-shirt and sweats, grimacing as tiny beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.

Harry got to him first as they both sprung off the couch. "Son, what are you doing? You need to be resting."

"I'm fine," the teenager replied, sidestepping Harry's hands as they tried to steer him. "I just needed to get out of that bedroom. I'm going barmy in there." He shuffled into the kitchen, keeping one hand on the wall at all times. "Is there anything for lunch?"

"Go sit down," Ginny said, edging past him to reach the fridge first. "I'll make you a sandwich. What do you feel-?"

James grasped the door handle first and yanked the stainless steel door open before she could. "I've got it."

"You shouldn't be exerting yourself like this. You need to save your strength for…" Ginny trailed off as he picked through the contents of the fridge and pulled out bags of turkey and Swiss cheese.

"It'd be a little bit easier to do that if someone would just let me have my wand back."

"James, we already went over this," Harry said. "You can have the wand back when you prove that we can trust you with it."

"Oh, don't worry. The untrustworthy son understands completely." He slapped his sandwich together and took a big bite of it at the kitchen counter.

Ginny glanced nervously at her husband. This teenager in front of them who looked so much like their James wasn't him at all. For certain, they had their rows over the years with the boy, but this was different. Before, he had always been fighting for something; now it seemed he only wanted to fight them, the two people in the world who would die for him without question or hesitation.

"We're not the enemy, mate," Harry tried again. "I'm not going to yell and scream at you until I'm blue in the face so don't act like-"

"Why aren't you?" James asked, turning to his father. "Why aren't you yelling or screaming? Because that's what normal people would do. Normal people would be railing at me. Normal fathers would be berating me until they passed out from exhaustion for what I've done."

Harry shook his head and stepped even closer to James while Ginny quietly sucked in a small breath. The air in the room tasted wrong, acidic with tension that wasn't normal in the happy home she had worked so hard to create for her family. "You think I don't want to yell? You think I don't want to shake you until you see the damage you've truly done? Because I do. Believe me I do. The thing about that, though, is that it's only going to make me feel better for about five minutes, but you'll have to carry it with you for a lot longer. So for just this once, I'm not going to be the normal dad, okay? I'm going to be abnormal and I'm going to help you try to rectify this situation before the whole world turns against you."

James's eyes burned until they were almost black, shining brightly as he raised his chin up in defiance. "It shouldn't bother you, should it? What the world will think?" He shrugged with indifference. "They're not going to blame you for it. After all, you're not even my real dad at all, aren't you?"

Ginny's mouth fell open in shock and she prayed furiously that she hadn't just heard what she thought she had. She couldn't have because it wasn't true, not in the sense of the people it really mattered to. Even when they had finally sat down and told James when he was eight, the first person their son had hugged afterwards had been Harry. The two of them were so in synch sometimes that Al and Lily sometimes felt left out of their bubble. If a being from another world wanted to understand what a father and son should be, they needn't look further than Harry and James Potter. So, really, Ginny had to have been imagining hearing what she did come from her son's mouth.

Except she hadn't. The flood of pain and rage that washed over Harry's face told her otherwise.

"W-What did you just say to me?"

"The truth," James pressed on, pulling himself up to his full height. "That's what it is and that's what everyone will say. No true son of the great Harry Potter could ever behave the way I have. No one that he was truly ever a father to could do the things I did. So don't you worry, man, because someone else is going to get the credit for me!"

"James, stop it!" Ginny cried out, racing to him and wrenching him away from Harry as best she could. Her husband's entire body was shaking, with an uncontrollable swell of emotions as she felt in her skin how his magic was straining around the room, and she couldn't say for sure that what would happen to her child if she left him too close to Harry. "You don't know what you're saying!"

"Yes, I do!"

"What is wrong with you?! Why are you trying to hurt everyone who loves you?! Me, your father," she was careful to enunciate that word through her clenched teeth, "your girlfriend."

"Don't," James shoved a finger into her face, "bring her into this!"

"No, you brought her into this!" She batted his hand away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry gripping the countertop so hard she could swear she saw the indents of his fingers in the marble. She turned her wrath back on the cause of all this distress. "You brought her into this when you decided, like a selfish prat, that getting your willy teased or sucked off meant more to you than someone who loves you; someone who loves you with all her heart. That first love is precious, James; too precious to just…" James was shaking his head, smirking again with a ferocious gleam in his eye.

"You're really going to be the one to lecture me about first loves, Mum? About their purity and their sanctity? You're not worried about your little trousers catching on fire? Because if you really believed what you were just spewing, then what the hell am I doing here? WHY THE HELL WAS I EVEN BORN TO BEGIN WITH?!"

"BE QUIET!" Ginny screamed, beating her fists against her son's chest until he fell back against the back door. "SHUT YOUR MOUTH THIS INSTANT, JAMES SIRIUS POTTER!"

James stood breathing there for a moment, breathing heavily, his eyes going wildly back and forth between the two adults—one trying to burn him where he stood with her eyes and the other nearly catatonic—before he reached behind him for the doorknob and turned it, nearly falling over in haste to get outside away from them.

An invisible hand pushed her forward towards her son while another pushed her back towards Harry. She tugged back at her unruly hair, wishing she could rip it out strand by strand in frustration. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She and Harry were a team with their children. They always had been. They had never been divided by them in their lives until now.

_Jamie, what have you done?_

At a loss, she turned back to Harry. His trembling had eased to a gentle shudder, but his face…Ginny knew the pain of that moment with their son would stay with her husband in his nightmares for years to come.

"Harry," she whispered, reaching for his hand.

He pulled away before she could reach him. "Go," he ordered. "Go make sure he's…he's alright. Make sure he doesn't hurt himself."

The decision was made for her; she nodded and walked outside on rubbery legs, her eyes scanning the lakeside landscape against the harsh sunlight, the grass tickling her feet in what was usually a pleasant sensation; now it was the only thing tethering her to reality and sanity. Finally, she spotted a figure huddled on the edge of the dock.

Every step closer to James, her anger mounted until she could feel it in the tips of her fingers, taste the metallic sting of it against her tongue. There had never been an instant when since she saw Bart's memories so long ago that she had ever questioned Harry's feelings for James. Even when she had been pregnant with Albus and she heard of the whispered conversations between Harry and Bart or Ron about how Harry would feel about this natural born child over the one he was already raising, Ginny had shrugged it away. The only way Harry Potter knew to love someone was with his whole heart and that was the only way he had loved James since the boy had been growing in her, pushing back against Harry's hand as he told bad jokes and read Quidditch articles.

It had happened over the years; some small-minded twit who whispered loudly to a friend as they walked by with three-year old James between them or a foreign Quidditch correspondent who brought up that blasted article from the _Prophet_ during a boring match. Anyone who ever questioned Harry's love for her oldest was immediately put on a list in Ginny's mind that no good deed or kind word could ever get them off of.

But what kind of mother was she if she put her son on that list? For a brief moment, she was so utterly filled with rage that she didn't particularly care.

Until she was close enough to see the jerking in James's shoulders and hear the quiet, ragged sobs that escaped from his throat. That's when it struck her like a blow to the chest what was really going on, what her son was really consumed with.

_He's scared_, Ginny realized, her steps coming to a halt behind him. _That's what all this cruelty is. He's scared and he's angry and he's ashamed of what he's done. He's not…He's just scared._

Fear was an ugly, tactless feeling. It made us irrational. It made us hurtful. It made us lash out and fight against the things that we loved because sometimes it was so much easier to do that than to accept how frightened we really were.

Something Ginny knew all too well.

Kneeling down behind him, she put her hand on his back, rubbing small circles on it as she felt the air force itself violently into and out of his body.

"W-W-Why did I do that?" James choked out after a moment. "Why did I say that to him? To you both? I…I didn't mean it!"

"I know you didn't, sweetheart."

"I didn't mean it," he repeated, whirling around to his mother, tears streaming down his face. "I swear I didn't mean it, Mum! I swear! I-I-I didn't mean for any of…" He broke off into a mournful wail and collapsed against her.

Ginny took him to her breast and cuddled him close, rocking them together and humming softly to him. "Shh," she whispered. "Just breathe, son. Calm down and breathe. In and out, in and out. Slowly just take deep breaths."

They stayed like that for a quite a while. Ginny watched as the clouds danced in the sky around them, the sun shining high above them as they sat in solitude in this quiet place that had always been a haven for her family. James's cries were still so profound that neither of them noticed when the two of them became three until Harry knelt down beside his wife. He looked down at the two of them for a long moment, his face blank, before he gently extracted James from Ginny's arms and took the teenager into his own.

James didn't fight him in the least. "I'm sorry," he said, his face pressed close to Harry's ear. "I'm so sorry, Dad."

"It's okay."

"No," James denied, pulling back and staring earnestly at his father. "It's not okay. What I said in there…It wasn't okay and it wasn't true. None of it was. I had no right to think it, much less say it. Especially to you. All you've ever been is the greatest dad in the world and I just…" He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I love you both a-and I have no excuse for how I behaved. I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"Well," Ginny said matter-of-factly, cupping his cheek, "that's just too damn bad because you're going to get it anyways."

"Mum-"

"You're also going to get disappointment from us, and anger, and frustration, and a whole heap of other things, but above all," she looked to Harry and he nodded in agreement, "you're going to have our support. So you can yell and say as many nasty things as you can think of. We're not going anywhere, James."

"That's…That's kind of insane, you know?"

"There's actually another name for it."

"What's that?"

Ginny wiped the last of the moisture from his red cheeks. "Parenthood."

James nodded thoughtfully and pivoted, hanging his legs from the edge of the dock. He was tall enough now that his feet sunk into the water; without a word, his hair slowly shifted back to its usually shade of ebony. Ginny and Harry joined him on either side, taking the time to let their hearts still, let the sharp stab of those awful moments in the house breathe out their bodies and vanish up into the air with the clouds.

The sun was beginning to burn against the back of Ginny's neck and shoulders when James spoke again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for all of this; for doing what I've done to **cause** all this. I never thought that this could happen."

"What did you think was going to happen, mate?"

"Nothing, because…because I wasn't thinking. I wasn't letting myself think."

"Why?" Ginny tried to keep the judgment out of her voice. "Why have you been acting the way you have with…with girls when you're not here? When did all this start? When did you become a…a…?"

"A selfish prat who only cared about getting my willy teased or sucked off?" James finished with Ginny's own words. He stared back down into the water.

"We want to help you," Harry said. "We want to help you in every way we can, but to do that we need to understand why you did what you did." He paused. "Do you even understand why you did what you did?"

James kept looking into the lake, seeing something in his reflection that neither of his parents saw. With the mother's touch she had perfected over the years, Ginny laid her hand over his and willed strength to flow through her arm into his heart.

"I love her," he finally said. "Sophie, I mean. I've loved her since forever; since I even understood what it really was, that extra beat in my heart that always picked up when she was around me. I think I knew for sure when I was thirteen. After I came home from school for winter break, she made me a tart for my birthday, lemon and blueberry, and we ate the whole thing together up in the tree house. We talked until the sun came up and then she finally fell asleep. She…her hair was in her eyes so I reached over to brush it back from her face, like I've done a thousand times since we were little, only this time when I did it, this spark ran from her skin to my hand. It was like holding on to a live wire except it didn't hurt. It felt wonderful. I never wanted to stop feeling that. I never wanted to stop feeling her." He smiled sadly at the memory and turned to Harry. "Wasn't that how it was with Mum? I mean, you knew her for ages when you were kids. Didn't it just suddenly all come together one morning for you what she was? What she was really supposed to be? What everything you felt for her really meant?"

"Yeah, mate," Harry said. "Not exactly, but everyone's different. Everyone finds love in their own way."

"By some miracle, Sophie felt the same way. I don't know why. Especially now, but she did and it was great. Perfect, really. We were together every break and when I was back at school, we wrote all the time. She knows…knew everything important about me, everything I loved and wanted and everything I was afraid of. After a while, she became everything to me and everyone around us knew it: you guys, Bart and Nell, our siblings, our friends, shopkeepers we passed on the street, people we never even spoke to; they all knew what she and I were to each other and what our future held. My friends at school started ribbing me in fourth year about buying her a ring. Last year, they weren't even joking about it, just asking outright. They started making all these plans for after graduation, about places they'd go and things they'd do, only they didn't ask me about any of that. They didn't think I was going with them. My teachers were the same way. When we talked about my future and my career plans, my Head of House always brought up Sophie, saying I should consult with my future wife before I made any decisions. It got to where I stopped going to meetings with her. Even you guys." He threw a sideways glanced at Ginny. "You and Nell especially would talk with Sophie for hours about where'd we live and when we should have kids and how many we should have. You didn't even ask any more if that was what we wanted. What **I** wanted."

"Because I thought what you wanted was to be with Sophie!"

"It was, but I wanted to make that choice for myself," he tried to explain. "It's like…one day I woke up and realized my entire life was planned out for me, only I hadn't really gotten a say in it. I knew who I'd marry, where I'd sleep every night, what my job would be, who I'd have ki-" He kicked out at the still water, splashing droplets of water around them before he bent over and hung his head in his hands. "I wasn't even seventeen-years-old yet and everything about my life had been decided. You can't understand what that's…" He groaned and shot an apologetic look at his father. Harry's shoulders stiffened and Ginny had to tamper down the urge to take her hand to the back of her son's head. "I'm sorry, Dad."

Harry took his time to answer. "It's different circumstances—vastly gargantuan different circumstances—from me when I was that age. However, I suppose the principle's still the same: you felt backed into a corner and that you had no control over the situation." He raised an expectant eyebrow at his son. "Only problem with that is, just like me, you did. I already told your mum today, but I'll tell you that I made the choice to face Voldemort; not because of a prophecy, but because I couldn't stand by and watch while he tried to destroy the people I loved. You and Sophie may have been pushed together since the cradle by us and by everything else in the world, but you still made the choice to accept that relationship. You let yourself fall in love, James, and you let her fall in love with you. With that love come responsibilities. Responsibilities you ignored and abused."

"I know," James said. "I know I did. It was just so bloody easy. I was away at school, away from you and…and Sophie, and it was just easy."

_Haven't we done anything right? _Ginny thought to herself. _Why didn't we teach him that the easy thing was so often not the right thing; that it was that exact opposite of the right thing?_

"How did it start?" Ginny asked instead.

He shrugged one shoulder. "It started last year, after the first match of the season. I held Slytherin to only five goals and we won by over four hundred points. The whole team started celebrating on the field before the crowds rushed in and I found myself next to Portia Raspin, the seventh-year Chaser. I didn't even realize I was kissing her until I felt her hands wrap around my neck. We pulled away before Al or Lily or the cousins could see us, but afterwards, when the younger students were all in bed, the team snuck into one of the towers with some others to continue the festivities. Portia and I…" He blushed scarlet and kept his eyes down. "We didn't do everything that night, but we came pretty close. And for the first time in a very long time, I wasn't frustrated or anxious about not being in control of anything in my life. For a couple of hours, I could just shut my brain off and pretend that nothing else mattered but what I was feeling in that moment and that moment alone.

"The guilt didn't kick in until the next day when I got a letter from Sophie. I actually pulled the curtains around my bed and had a good cry for myself over what I had done, what Sophie's face would like after she found out, until I realized," he chuckled bitterly, "that she didn't have to find out. She was far away, in the safest place on Earth, and I was free to do as I pleased. It didn't take long before I even managed to convince myself that it was good that I was behaving how I was. I mean, if I wasn't thinking about the future, I wasn't scared about it and if I wasn't scared, I'd never have to tell Sophie and she'd never have to feel hurt over my uncertainty."

"Just your infidelity," Ginny couldn't help but say.

He didn't try to deny her. "I never said it was sound logic, just that it was what I was clinging to every time I snuck away with a different girl to a broom cupboard or into the greenhouses. Their faces and their names stopped mattering after a while. They knew it was nothing more than a good few hours to kill time in between matches and classes as the year went on. And I was always careful to not get caught by Al, Lily, or my cousins. My friends covered for me and the teachers who did catch me didn't say anything because technically I wasn't breaking any school rules. I made sure to never get caught walking the grounds afterwards with any of the girls after hours." He swirled patterns in the cool water with his toes. "I didn't sleep with all of them. Only three or four."

"Jamie," Harry sighed.

"Yeah, I know. I'm a miserable pig who deserves everything that's coming towards him."

This time, Ginny didn't try to deny him. "So what happened this summer? What happened with…with Kerri Smithfield?"

James took in a deep breath. Ginny watched as his eyes left the tranquility of the lake and traveled back to a night several weeks before.

"It was the second night we were in London," he said. "Someone, I think it was Lewis, got us IDs so we could drink at the pub we were going to. I had maybe three ales already when this group of girls walked in. We could tell they were older by the way they dressed and held themselves. We acted like jerks; hollering and whistling at them until they turned our way and one of them came over to us. Pete stood to give her a hug and introduced her to the table. He said this was his friend from back in school, the one that beat up the bullies that broke his glasses for him until he was big enough to do it himself. Her name was Kerri.

"She was different from girls at school. At Hogwarts, all of the girls are so put together and presentable. This girl, though, she looked like she didn't care what anyone thought of her. She had on the tightest leather pants I'd ever seen and a shirt that only barely covered what it was supposed to. Her hair was in pigtails and one of them was jet black while the other was this soft pink; salmon, she kept correcting me when I tugged on it. Everything about her tried to scream out that she was this tough bird, but when you looked in her eyes, she seemed almost…frightened; like she was just waiting for something bad to happen." He shook away the memory and continued on. "Anyways, we ended up hanging out with her group of friends and she and I kept talking; talking and drinking until we started dancing, and then dancing led to kissing, and the kissing…well that led down the street to her apartment."

Which had led to the baby; the time bomb waiting to go off and tear their lives to bit.

"Kerri wasn't awake when I left. I don't even remember if I left a note or anything. I just know that as I was walking back to the apartment we were crashing in that it was the first time in a long time that I had felt ashamed for how I behaved. The girls at school all knew what I was doing, just distracting myself, but this one…I mean, I'm quite sure she didn't know I had a girl back home; waiting for me to come back from my weekend jaunt because we were going to watch films in the pasture on Monday night. It was the first time I felt like I had truly used someone. It made me see what I had really been doing all this time by screwing around. It made me sick to my stomach. And I promised myself that morning that it was going to be different; I was going to change, be a better man. I meant it, too. Until I got that letter."

"I assume from how you acted the rest of the summer that you never told Sophie anything?" Ginny asked.

"I…I didn't want to risk losing her. I couldn't," he said. "I reckoned that since I was never going to do anything like that again, there was no reason to tell her. It was stupid. Hell, the whole past year could be classified as the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"And the alcohol?" Harry asked seriously. "The drinking binge yesterday after you got the letter? What was that?"

"It was…It was a way to forget. I knew it was all going to come out, every sordid detail and everyone was going to look at me differently for the rest of my life. Even you two. I found that the more I kept on drinking that the less I cared; the more blurry everyone's faces became in my mind and the quieter all their voices shouting at me in my head became." He looked back and forth between them. "I promise I wasn't trying to hurt myself. I-I know that my word doesn't mean as much as it did yesterday, but it's the truth."

Harry nodded slowly. "It's going to take time," he told James, "for our trust in you to come back. You'll have to earn it back, mate. Starting with accepting the consequences of what happened at school. If you go back, you'll be on restriction the rest of the year. Quidditch will be out of the question and you won't be allowed to leave the grounds except for holiday breaks."

"I know."

"There are a lot of choices that we…that **you** need to make as well," Ginny added, looping her arm through James's and leaning into him. "First and foremost, you need to talk with this girl and decide what to do about the baby. Nothing else can happen until then."

"And no matter what," Harry said, placing a hand on their son's shoulder, "know that we will support you in whatever you decide." His eyes drifted to Ginny's, the silent question screaming back at her.

"Of course we will," she said, swallowing around the tightness in her throat. "We're your parents. We will always support…" She trailed off as she felt James's arm go rigid and goose bumps break out along his skin, despite the heat. Looking up at him, his eyes were wide as they stared over her head, his breathing quickening once more. "Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you need to go lie-?"

"Gin," Harry said, nudging his chin subtly in the direction of James's attention. She turned around and gasped, the tightening in her throat growing to a fierce choke at what she saw:

Sophie was walking slowly towards them, a small parcel in her hands. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face and the yellow sundress she wore billowed around her with the slight breeze. Her most distinguishing feature was the look of abject confusion gracing her features at the sight of Harry and Ginny with James between them.

_Godric, not now_, Ginny thought, her horror growing the closer she came to them. _Please not now. James…he's not ready for this._

He wasn't ready for any of this. Every facet of his youth was being taken from him, save for one part: the part that was walking along their property; the part that would be destroyed, along with a piece of James's soul, when she learned of what he had done. And despite the enormity of the careless crimes he had committed, despite her simmering—if not boiling—anger at his actions, there was no part of Ginny that felt her son deserved the punishment awaiting him:

Losing the love of his soul mate.

Probably forever.

There was no time to pray for a reprieve or try to escape. By the time Ginny's brain caught up with reality, Sophie's footsteps clattered along the dock towards them. Harry was on his feet before she reached them, with Ginny following suit. Only James remained as he was, resolutely gazing at the serene waters at his feet. They stood in front of him, forming a shield as best they could around his prone form.

"Hi," Sophie said uncertainly, her eyes locked on James's back. "W-What's going on? I sent James some shirts he…he left behind," she held the parcel out in front of her, "only the owl came back with them this morning and a note from someone in his dorm that said James wasn't at school."

_Such a good girl_, Ginny thought helplessly. _She's always been the sweetest girl. Why does she have to be such a sweet girl? Why can't something this horrible happen to an awful girl?_

With a quick glance at his wife and son, Harry turned back to Sophie with a soft smile. "Thank you, dear. Uh, James was feeling a bit out of sorts at school and…and…"

"They asked him to come home until he felt better," Ginny finished, weak even to her own ringing ears.

Sophie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "They have an infirmary at Hogwarts. I know because my mum inspected it top to bottom with a Magnifying Charm before she finally signed off on Gigi going there. Couldn't they treat him there?" She didn't let Harry or Ginny try to answer. "And what about his classes? It's his N.E.W.T. year and he can't afford to fall behind." A frown settled deep in the corners of her mouth. "What are you two doing?"

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, anything, when another voice answered instead.

"They're lying to you," James said. Grasping his father's arm for support, James carefully got to his feet and stepped through his parents' protection to face Sophie.

"Why would they do that?" she asked him.

"Because they love me and even if I warrant what's about to happen to me, they don't want to see me hurt." He turned his head and gave him the best attempt at a smile he could muster. "They're good parents. The best, really."

_Oh, my sweet boy._

But he wasn't that anymore. He was a man now, and a man faced the consequences of his actions head-on. Some would say soon enough that nothing he did from here on in would atone for what he had already done, but Ginny knew better. To give into weakness—one of the first forms of evil—one had to first stop trying, something Ginny knew her son wouldn't do once his mind was set. Tears gathered in her eyes and she ached to reach out to him, to let him know in some way that she was here for him; that even with the darkness creeping more and more into his life that she would always try to find a way to light a path for him home.

"Can…Can you guys give us some privacy please?" he asked, his eyes going back to Sophie's wide ones. "We need to talk."

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, not knowing which answer she wanted.

"Yes. I-I need to do this now."

She felt Harry's hand on her arm, leading her away. They were almost to the tree line when she stopped and looked back, tucking herself behind the scratchy bark of an old elm.

She watched James take Sophie's face in his hands and press a deep kiss to her forehead.

She watched Sophie pull away as James's lips began moving.

She watched the parcel slip from Sophie's shaking hands and fall into the water.

She watched as Sophie turned her back, tears streaming down her face.

She watched Sophie double over to the ground, shaking uncontrollably.

She watched James's lips keep talking, despite this all.

She watched when they finally did, as James knelt next to Sophie and put his hand on her back.

She watched as Sophie reeled back and slapped James across the face, screaming with the fury only betrayal could fuel.

She watched James remain where he was when Sophie scrambled to her feet and ran away.

She watched James pitch forward and pound the dock with his fists.

She watched her son's childhood end and his future begin.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey everyone! Thanks to everyone who helped with the beta of this chapter. I really appreciate all the time and work that was put into this. Please enjoy and if so inclined, let me know what you think.**

It was amazing how long it took Bart to find his way to the Potter's home. If Ginny was a betting woman, she would have laid at least three hundred Galleons on him beating the front door down at just under ten minutes after his daughter returned to him, disheveled and choking on her own sobs. If there was side action on what kind of weapon he'd use to beat James into a puree of bone and muscle, she probably would have gone with a freshly-sharpened axe. As it were, she was wrong on both accounts.

She was wrong about many things lately. Far too many things.

It was nearly eleven at night when the sound of Bart's footsteps drifted through James's open window and into Ginny's ears. They were heavy, full of purpose and a father's love; she wouldn't be surprised if the ground was cracking beneath him. Edging closer to the glass, Ginny watched through the curtain, her wand tucked into the back of her shorts, ready to be used if need be. By Merlin's beard, she hoped she wouldn't have to pull it out, but she would take no chances with her son's safety.

She cast a quick glance at James, grateful to see he had finally succumbed to a fitful rest. After his painful confession on the dock, the teenager had been a mass of sobs and retching for hours afterwards. He wasn't even able to form words to express his grief. Harry had been preparing the Floo to take him to St. Mungo's when James had finally been able to calm down enough for Ginny to get a glass of water into him, then another, and then a few pieces of toast. He still lacked either the will or the ability to give voice to his thoughts, but Ginny was willing to give him his silence for the night, after all he had been through.

Bart would not be that accommodating. He would not be merciful or mindful of James's condition, not after what had been done to his daughter, and Ginny couldn't blame him one bit. If someone had done to her child what James had done to Sophie, the only price that would satisfy her fury would be blood, lots and lots of blood coming from the monster that had hurt her baby. Only the monster in this case was her son and she would not let anyone harm him.

Not even one of her brothers.

With her jaw tensed to the point of fracturing a molar, she watched as Bart's shadow stalked closer to the house, until the lights outside illuminated him so she could see the dark gleam in his normally kind eyes. The oak wand clenched in his fist that had conjured sweets for her children for as far back as she could remember. Ginny reached behind her for her own wand, her mouth going dry as he came closer and closer, until he was twenty paces or so from the front door, when he was suddenly knocked back down to the ground. She flinched as he slowly got to his feet, cursing wildly, and began firing spells at the invisible barrier that kept him from the front steps of the house. The barrage of lights nearly blinded her as she looked down at him unseen.

Bart saw something that halted his attack and he lowered his wand, huffing with exertion. "Let me in," he said.

"No," Harry's voice answered.

"LET ME IN!"

"I can't do that. You know I can't."

"Bring him down here then." Bart pointed to the ground at his feet, pacing back and forth along the edge of whatever shield Harry had had the sense to erect around the house. "Bring him down here to face me like a man."

Harry stepped out onto the front lawn until he was standing in front of his friend. "I can't do that either."

"Why the fuck not?!"

"Because he's seventeen-years-old and before you served ale and whiskey for a living, you were a trained killer."

"Harry, you-"

"I've sealed the Floos so you can't get in them, adjusted the Apparition wards, and this shield isn't going anywhere for the foreseeable future." He squared his shoulders and kept his gaze level with Bart's. "When we can all talk about this calmly, we will. I promise. But until then, you're not getting anywhere near my son."

Ginny watched the fight seep out of Bart and be replaced by a weariness that cried from every part of him as he slid down to the ground, bracing his back against the barrier separating him from one of his first true friends. Unable to stop herself, she pulled out her wand and mumbled a quick spell, amplifying the voices outside until she could hear them better, holding the wand close to her ear as if she was listening through an Extendable Ear.

She sunk down to the floor, propping her chin on the window sill as Bart spoke, his words bearing the brunt of the frustration he couldn't exact on James.

"My little girl is crying."

Harry sat next to him on the other side. "I know."

"She's crying and no matter what her mother and I say to her, she won't stop. S-She's in agony right now and I can't…I can't do anything to make it stop." He turned his head slightly. "Do you have any idea how useless I feel right now?"

"You're not-"

"I held her when she was born and I swore," Bart took in a deep, shuddering breath, "I swore that I would do everything I could to make sure that she'd know nothing but joy, nothing less than joy in her life. It's what we do, isn't it? We make sure when they're born they never know how bad it can be; how it felt when we were growing up. That's what it means to be a good father. But my kid knows. She knows what it feels like when the person who's supposed to love you the most turns their back on you." In a flash, he smashed his elbow against the back of the shield. "She was never supposed to know that, man."

"No, she wasn't," Harry agreed.

"Did you have any…hint of an idea of what he was doing?"

"Of course we didn't. The first we heard of it was last night at the school." Harry settled back, bringing his knees in closer. "They called us there. James…James got a letter from the other girl and he went on a bender, a bad one. Came pretty damn close to killing himself."

Ginny watched as Bart nodded his head. "I'm sorry for what that must have done to you and Gin," he finally said, "but I can't say I'm sorry he almost…you know. Not right now anyways. Not after what he did to my family."

"Yeah."

His words hurt more than any spell or curse, making Ginny almost wish he had managed to break his way through the shield. She'd take his anger gladly over what his words were implying now because for years it had never been Bart's family or Harry's family; it had always been **their** family.

Barely a day had past and the division had already begun.

"I wish I was sorry," Bart mumbled after a moment. "I want to be. I've loved that kid longer than I've loved my own, and I thought that if there was one person in this world that I could trust my daughter with, it would be him."

Harry tilted his head back until it was resting against Bart's, the invisible lining of the shield physically keeping them apart while the love that helped define them, the love of a father, kept them even further from each other.

"You have every right to hate him," Harry told Bart, "and he had no right to do what he did to Sophie. He understands that. I promise you he does and if it makes you feel better, I think he hates himself enough for all of us right now." He picked listlessly through the grass around him. "This probably isn't the right time or place, but you have to know that James truly loves Sophie and he-"

Bart's bark of laughter reverberated up from Ginny's wand so loudly she had to pull it away from her ear for a moment, glancing behind her to see James's back before putting the wand back in place just in time for Bart to continue through his laughter.

"I've always thought I was lucky; that we were all lucky. I mean," he chuckled ruefully, "you hear all these horror stories about in-laws and all that malarkey. I figured you, me, and our ladies hit the jackpot when our kids fell in love with each other. We were going to get to be in each other's lives forever, spend every holiday together, watch…watch our grandkids come into the world. It was going to be perfect." Reaching into his jacket, Bart pulled what looked like a flask from his pocket and took a deep swig from it. "Well, I should've known what would happen when guys like you and me think everything is made in the shade with a glass of lemonade."

"Put that shit away," Harry said impatiently, turning to face the back of Bart's head, "and then look at me." He waited until the other man reluctantly tossed the flask aside and looked to him, with what Ginny could easily see from her vantage point were dark eyes leaded down with pain. "You've raised an amazing girl in Sophie. She's bright, funny, and kind. More importantly, to this conversation and situation, she's strong. She's always been stronger than she needed to be and right now, that's going to serve her well. I don't know how much more fire my son's infidelities are going to rain down on us all, but I do know that your daughter can get through it."

"I know that, too," Bart agreed. Grimacing, he pulled himself to his feet, hobbling as he put his weight back on the bad left knee Ginny knew had been acting up lately. He had complained about it yesterday morning at the train station, a lifetime ago. "She's Nell's daughter, how could she not be? The only thing is she won't be strong here."

Harry stayed kneeling on the grass, looking up. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know what Sophie's doing besides crying? She's packing; packing everything up in her room and getting ready to leave."

_No_, Ginny thought, putting her forehead against the sill, amazed she still had tears left to well up in her eyes. Surely she had used her limit for the day or year or decade already._ Please, not this, too._

"Leave for where?" she heard Harry ask quietly.

"Anywhere your son isn't."

"I don't-"

"She's taking after her mother yet again and going abroad to study healing. A year in Africa and then maybe another in Cambodia or Laos. If she's still up for it after all that, a tour through Peru or Chile. She's working out the details as she goes." Despite himself, he smiled, a touch of pride playing at his lips. "For every letter Nell sends out telling these esteemed healers to ignore her willful daughter, Sophie sends out five more. I think our owls are going to put themselves up for adoption by sunrise."

"Just…Just tell her she can't go. She's underage. She'll need your consent to go."

Bart held up his arms helplessly. "So in the span of a day, my daughter has to start hating James and both her parents? I'm really supposed to have her try and deal with that? No, I can't do that." He sighed, his eyes scanning the property and beyond. "Gigi was never going to be truly happy unless she got to see the outside and now Sophie won't be able to heal her heart unless she leaves this place." He shook his head in disbelief. "I spent years searching for Hastom, trying to find somewhere in the world where I could put down roots; a place where, if I ever had them, my kids could have a home like I never did and what happens? They both can't get out of here fast enough. Isn't that something?"

"This isn't right," Harry said from his spot, giving voice to Ginny's own thoughts. "None of this is right."

Bart walked over to his flask, bending to pick it up, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say: Thieves get rich, and saints get shot, and God don't answer prayers a lot." He raised his flask in salute to Harry, backing away. "Do yourself a favor, though, and don't let James go out in public alone for a while. I know, through all my illustrious training that I can keep my rage in check, but I can't vouch for my wife right now."

Their friend was nearly out of sight when Harry finally turned to face the house, his eyes instantly connecting with Ginny's, the question in them louder than a scream:

When would it end? And if it actually did, what would the final cost be?

* * *

The metal whisk slashed back and forth, guided by magic and clattering against the worn ceramic bowl. The sound effectively beat out any thoughts that tried to creep into Ginny's mind, along with the mixture of eggs, flour, baking powder, and sugar as she stood in her sun-filled kitchen, bent over her mother's cookbook; the pages of which were barely held together with Spell-O-Tape and a handful of Sticking Charms. She had mastered the very basics of cooking over her years of child-rearing, but baking had always alluded her. There was too much pressure with it. One extra teaspoon of something or a few extra minutes in the oven was sometimes the only thing between cookies and lumps of mortar.

She needed to do something, though. Harry had been called to the Ministry over a complicated extradition matter over an hour ago and with James still sleeping, there was nothing to distract her around the house. Her weekly column for the _Prophet _was already edited and sent out and without three children traipsing in and out throughout the day, the house was in order. Any calls to her family or her friends would only result in Ginny having to lie to them about James being home. She knew she'd need them in the coming days and weeks, so she thought it was best not to alienate them with any hint of mistrust. Not that she'd know what to say when the time came to telling them the truth.

Ginny hadn't even been able to tell her other children what was going on. Her hand shook and trembled whenever she tried to put ink to parchment yesterday, trying to explain in some way what had happened to their big brother. She had finally given up and sent a note to Neville, asking him to tell Al and Lily not to worry; that James was fine, that they'd hear from their parents in the next day or two, and that she and Harry would prefer they not tell their cousins about his disappearing act.

_Teaching them to lie to their family already, Ginevra? _A dark voice that sounded far too much like her own asked from the confines of Ginny's psyche. Taking her wand out, she jabbed it in the direction of the wireless, turning it on, hoping the music would push her internal mutinies to the background. _That's quite bold. You're_ _not at all worried about them adopting some of Jamie's fine qualities?_

_No_, she thought, gritting her teeth as she searched through the yellowed pages for the recipe for plum syrup. _I just don't want to sound off the Weasley Family Alarm before it needs to be. James needs time to catch his breath before-_

_Oh yes, young James, _the voice said, snickering. _That's who you're worried about. Not at all what your family is going to think of you all when they learn what the precious prince has been spending his time doing lately, while you were none the wiser. Especially your poor mum. Her health hasn't been the best these past few months, has it? Why I bet the news of what her grandson has done to his life and the irreparable damage he's brought to the lives of two young women will just be the wisp that breaks the fairy's back and make her-_

Without thinking, she turned the music up to full blast. Unfortunately, the scraping crooning of Celestina Warbeck greeted her, filling her kitchen and putting Molly Weasley's face in front of Ginny's closed eyes.

_Godric, what the hell are they all going to say? What is __**she**__ going to say? How can I go to her and tell her that I've let my firstborn son get a Muggle girl, with a pierced face, pregnant after he knew said Muggle girl, with a pierced face, a grand total of eight hours? What will that do to my-_

"Mum?" Ginny startled and looked up to see James standing in front of her in a green flannel with a white shirt underneath and his favorite jeans, worn so much that even magic couldn't stop them from fading anymore. There were deep shadows under his eyes, the usual spirit and fire of the brown irises dampened, but they were clear and without tears. "What are you doing?" he asked over the roar of the music.

Hastily, she flicked her wand the wireless turned off.

"I, uh, I was just…I don't know. Trying to stay busy." She frowned and studied him. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I've been up for a bit." He fiddled with his shirt, buttoning and unbuttoning the bottom of it. "Is Dad around?"

"He got called into the office. Some extradition matter they needed him for," Ginny replied, shutting the cookbook and floating the dirty dishes into the sink. "He should be back soon."

"I thought since you guys were going on holiday they wouldn't dare call him in for anything."

"Well, it was apparently an important case and…" She raised an eyebrow at her son. "How did you know Dad and I were going away?"

"I saw he had his vacation shirt out the other day," James said with a small smile. "You know, that hideous orange and blue Hawaiian one that Grampa gave him a few years ago that Dad used to wear as a joke, but then secretly grew to think it made him look cool as age and senility began to set in?"

_He made a joke_, Ginny thought with more than a bit of wonder. _He actually made a joke. He can make a joke, even with all this. He's still in there._

Maybe they would actually come out on the other side of this.

"We were going to have a bit of a tropical getaway with you kids off at school, just the two of us. According to your father, it was going to be our honeymoon."

"Yeah? What was wrong with the first one?"

"Nothing," she said softly. "Absolutely nothing at all." She watched in silence as he circled back around the table, still playing with the buttons of his shirt, until he fell into one of the chairs. Sitting down with him, she used her wand to put the kettle on and as she waited for it to boil, she asked, "What are you dressed for? I didn't…I didn't think you'd feel up to leaving the house yet."

James nodded in agreement, his fingers gliding over the smooth surface of the checkered tablecloth. They'd never eaten formally, never assigned anyone seats or whatnot, but somehow all of the kids managed to do it on their own anyways. James had sat in that same seat for his meals in the house since he outgrew his highchair. It was strange to think of how all the little things stayed as they were while the bigger ones were so busy keeping everyone out of breath as they changed.

"I wrote to Pete this morning," he said, staring at the salt shaker, "and I asked him for Kerri's number. He just sent it over. I was going to see if I could use Dad's mobile to ring her up. See if she wanted to meet today to talk about it. Talk about the…you know."

"The baby," Ginny whispered.

"Yeah, that."

"No, James." She shook her head a little as the kettle whistled loudly, getting up and going to take it off the stove herself. "You need to say the word."

"What do you-?"

"Baby." Keeping her back to him as she poured a cup for each of them. "It is not an 'It' or a 'That' at all. It's a baby, your baby. Your child and the sooner you accept that-"

"What if she doesn't want to have it?" Ginny swallowed to herself. "What if this is all over and done with next week? Am I still going to call it my child then?"

Balancing the cups in each hand, she went back to her son. Setting a cup in front of him and opening the sugar jar for him, she tried to remind herself that no matter what, she had to support whatever James was going to do. It wasn't as if she and any of her children had had a discussion on abortion and the pros and cons of it. Both she and Harry had always stressed the importance of love and safety in regards to sex, more so with the boys as they were older than Lily. Maybe along the way, James had formed his own ideas of what a life was; what the worth of it was and when it began. What she believed in her heart and what he believed in his might be two vastly different things, and who was she to say he was wrong? He hadn't lived her life and she wasn't living his right now. No matter how much she may disagree with his beliefs, whatever they were, Ginny had an obligation, as someone who loved him, to stand by James.

"Is that what you want?" she finally asked.

"From the little of what I know of these situations," he said, putting a cube of sugar in his tea and stirring, "what I want isn't necessarily the deciding factor, if it's a factor at all."

"Well, what if it was?" Ginny asked, tucking her own warm cup in between her hands and bring it to her lips, inhaling the comforting scent and studying her son as he sat hunched over the table across from her. "What if what you wanted was the only consideration? What would you tell this…Kerri to do about the pregnancy?"

He stared into the tea cup with an intensity that Ginny had only seen from Sybil Trelawny. Maybe he was wishing he could see the answers the former Divination teacher had once proclaimed she saw.

If only dirty tea leaves and thick glasses could solve their problems now. Ginny would sell whatever was left of her soul for it to be true.

"I wish, more than anything, I could go back in time and tell myself to not walk into that pub that night," James said seriously after a moment. "I think I'd pummel my own arse into the ground, if that would've stopped all this from happening. There's no way I should be responsible for someone right now when I barely understand what it means to be an adult. I shouldn't be having a kid, Mum."

Without meaning to, her mind flashed back to a hospital room many years ago; to the tears in Harry's eyes, to the shaking timbre of Nell's apology, and most of all to the feeling of emptiness inside her stomach and her heart. Another piece of her family was being taken away and just like last time, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"I see," Ginny said.

"Then," he continued, surprising her, "I get to thinking about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I mean, you weren't that much older than I am now when I was born. You were young: playing Quidditch, traveling all over the world, having a time of it. I must have thrown everything for a lurch in your life when you found out about me." He took a long sip of tea. "Can I ask you something and get an answer from you that doesn't involve protecting me?"

"Did I consider not having you? Is that what you want to know?"

He only nodded in response.

Every instinct that motherhood had instilled into her over eighteen or so years ordered her to say no; to tell him that there had never been any uncertainty or doubt about him when she had pricked her finger over the tiny cauldron that held the pregnancy potion and watched her blood drop turn it blue. To do that, though, would be to lie and since this entire ordeal had begun with lies, the only way to steer it back to its proper course was to start telling the truth.

No matter how much Ginny despised doing so.

"For less than a day…yes," she told him, staring deep into his eyes. "I did consider having an abortion."

There was no crying or grimace; no outward reflection of whatever internal pain that statement might have caused him. "Okay."

"It wasn't because I didn't want you or love you," she continued, reaching across the table for his hand. "My life was just a complete mess back then. I wasn't as close to my parents or your uncles back then. I played every season and in all sorts of international events year-round so I wasn't home much of the time, and I-I was still with your birth father." She smirked slightly at the bitter irony. "It wasn't until I realized I was strong enough to have you on my own, after your birth fat…well, after he and I ended things that I even started talking to your dad again, after years apart. Not to mention I didn't end up here in Hastom until I was almost-"

"Mum," James stopped her ramblings, squeezing her hand. "It's okay. I wasn't asking for explanations or excuses. The past couple years, when I started reading more about Lionel Dresden and finding out what kind of man he was from newspapers articles and such, a part of me figured he tried to convince you not to have me."

"You were researching your birth father? Why?"

"Morbid curiosity, I suppose." He shrugged in forced indifference. "I was just…I needed to. I needed to know where I started from." Putting on his best smile for her, he squeezed her hand more warmly against his own. "You guys didn't do anything to make me want to run off and live with him or anything. I was a classless dick yesterday to you both, especially Dad, but I know how much you love me and how happy you are being my mum. Well," his smile fell again, "I mean before I did all this."

"Jamie-"

"I was only asking because I just wanted to know how you decided…how you decided you could do it. Be someone's parent, I mean."

The need was evident across his face, the need for his mother to make this paradigm-shifting decision all easier somehow. She couldn't give him easy, though. All she could give him was the truth.

Her truth, at any rate.

"It wasn't a decision. It wasn't any kind of choice. You were mine from the second that potion turned blue." Ginny had said the words before to others, but never to James; to the person it affected the most. "You were also scary, and confusing, and you possessed maybe the worst timing of anyone I've ever met." She grinned at him and felt it widen when he returned it with one of his own. "But when I finally let myself see through all the trivial things like my fear, my work, and other people's opinions, I realized that nothing I could ever do in life would be more important than being your mother." The band of her principles wrapped around her throat, trying to keep the next words inside, but she swallowed it away before continuing. "Just because that was the right choice for me, though, doesn't mean you have to make the same one. You're the one who will have to live with this. You're the only one who can know if this is what you want. If you and this girl decide not to have the baby, it won't make your father and I love you any less. You will always be the son we **both** wanted with all of our hearts."

"No matter what?" James whispered.

"No matter what."

"Even if I disappoint you? Choose something you might not agree with?"

"Yes."

He let out a deep breath and put his second hand on top of his Ginny's. She could see something inside ease up in relief at her show of support.

"If Kerri's willing to, I want her to have the baby."

_Okay, so shock is something I can still experience after the past two days. That's promising, Gin._

"Y-You do?" The only thing higher than her voice was her eyebrows. "I…I…."

"Am in a state of utter disbelief, just like me." James laughed a little before he gave his mother limp hand one more pat and ran both of his hands through his dark hair, his face growing somber again. "I thought about it before, what I would do if I ever got a girl pregnant. The thing of it was that it was always Soph. We even talked about it together. She had a minor scare once last year and even though it only was a possibility for a day, we both agreed if it ever happened for real, we'd own up to our part in it."

Ginny tried her best to process the information as he got up and paced around the kitchen table, stopping at the sink in front of the open window, letting the warm air kiss his cheeks.

"She kept telling me, 'Every life starts exactly the same, James. It wouldn't feel right to end one just because we're not ready yet.'" He tried to mask it, but to Ginny it was easy to see how much even thinking of words Sophie had once said could stab at every bit of him that could feel. "She was right then. Just because it's…it's someone else now doesn't make her any less right. When I see Kerri, I'm going to tell her that, if it's what she wants, I'll raise the baby with her."

"What about school?" Ginny asked, at a loss for anything else.

"I'll write to Professor Longbottom and work something out. If I can't finish my classes by correspondence, maybe I can still take my N.E. . If that's not an option, there are jobs I can work that don't require them or I can even do Muggle work. That'll give Grampa something to brag about. I can just hear him going on and on about his grandson the bricklayer to all his friends."

"And your friends? You won't get to see much of them anymore with a newborn. You won't get to see much of anything; not a New Year's Eve party or the inside of a fancy restaurant or even the inside of a shower. Your life won't belong to you anymore, James. Do you understand that?"

_Why are you fighting him on this?_ She asked herself. _Isn't this what you wanted? For him to claim his child and prove he's a better man than the one who sired him?_

It was. Of course it was. Ginny just needed him to be sure of what he was doing. If he had any doubts, any misgivings about this decision, it would only color his life with regret, something that would mark him and his child indelibly and profoundly in a way that they might not recover from.

"So my future," he answered slowly, "should come at the expense of someone else's?"

His answer shouldn't have surprised Ginny; he was Harry's son after all. She had just wanted to hope that he, Al, and Lily would have been able to hang onto their innocence longer than their father had. Perhaps there was still time for Al and Lily to be children, but for James, that time seemed to now have passed.

"I know it's going to be hard; not just with money and everything else," her son continued unabated. "I barely know the woman carrying my child. We might end up despising each other. It's just…I've got to try, you know? That's what you and Dad have always taught us: we can fall down flat on our face until we're bleeding all over our shoes, but we have to put a good effort in first before we walk away. Right, Mum? That's what Potters do."

_Well that settles it; with that kind of need to be responsible for everything, he's much more Harry's than he is mine._

Without saying a word, Ginny motioned for James to follow her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to Harry's small, messy study. Searching through the top drawer until she found it, Ginny pulled out the blue envelope with the Ministry's seal.

"Her address is in here." She handed James the folder and waited as he opened it. "It's Sunday. She might not be working. You can…You can start talking. Get to know each other a bit. See what you both want."

"Dad looked her up?" James shook his head, glancing at the short profile inside. "Of course he did."

"He was worried, we both were. It's what parents do." She paused for effect. "You might want to start preparing yourself for it."

James sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so." He glanced over at her, a question lingering in the eyes she had given him.

"What is it?"

"I need my wand. To Apparate there, I need my wand. I know you and Dad said I couldn't have it back until you both trusted me again, but I need to tell Kerri everything; about the magic and everything that comes with it. It's not fair to her otherwise."

It was the fair thing to do, to tell this young woman that the baby growing inside her could someday conjure birds out of thin air. Her son was a good man for wanting to tell someone he impregnated that the baby that came out of her might someday be able to sprout pig snouts and donkey ears. He was being responsible, which was a good sign of things to come, yet the thought of him leaving her house, her line of sight, twisted her stomach into a vicious knot of nervousness.

"If you give me a moment to get ready, I could come with you. Or we could wait for your dad. He lived as a Muggle for so long, he'll be good at explaining-" She stopped when James held up his hand.

"I don't want to overwhelm Kerri. I don't want her to feel like I'm ganging up on her or anything. And…And if she doesn't want to go on with being pregnant, I don't want to drag you guys into it any more than I have to." He tapped the folder against his thigh a few times, weighing something out in his head. "Why don't you leave the Monitoring Charm on me? That way you can know where I am and that I'm okay."

Ginny knew how much it took for him to ask her that and even though it was far from what she wanted, (which involved putting James in a hermetically-sealed, translucent steel ball covered in Cushioning Charms), she had to give him a chance to show her again that she and Harry could put their faith in him.

His back straightened as he felt Ginny's spell wash over him. With as little trepidation as possible, she took James's spruce wand and held it out.

"Send out a Patronus if you need us. If you can, try and be home before dinner."

"Thank you," he said as he took it from her, testing out the weight of it in his hand. Closing his eyes, he began to center himself, focusing on the address he had just read and trying to visualize its location in his mind.

"Be careful," Ginny said, leaving the room, unable to watch as her son went on his way.

She was on the stairs when she heard the familiar crack and felt a part of her leave with it. Gripping the railing of the stairs, she tried to remind herself over and over again that James being willing to accept responsibility was a good thing, a thing to be proud of. It **was **what she herself had wanted. Instead, she kept hearing Harry's words from the day before in her mind, about how what was best for James in his mind changed with the hour, and Ginny found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with her husband.

Was she ever going to know again what was best for James, what was right for him? Would they all one day look back at this decision with gratefulness or regret?

_I need a drink._

But as she walked back down into the kitchen, she remembered they didn't have any in their house, not for the time being. Chocolate ice cream and whipped topping would have to suffice for now.

Before she reached the fridge, Ginny noticed a sealed envelope sitting on the kitchen table with James's name scrolled across it in formal handwriting. The return postmark from it was not from Hogwarts, as she had expected it to be, but rather from that of Sapien Stellner, the village elder and unofficial guardian of Hastom itself.

After a moment or two, she was finally able to rationalize her curiosity and concern enough to open the envelope and pull the parchment out, reading quickly through the words scribbled on it. As she did, she wished she hadn't as the anger mounted inside her, welling up from her stomach until she tasted it in the back of her throat.

* * *

The back door seemed appropriate to. Ginny didn't want to draw any more attention to the scene that would take place than need be. It was strange, though, as she stepped back to await a response after pounding on it a good eight or nine times with her small fist, watching as two pots of geraniums fell from the nearest window and shattered due to the force she had used. In all her years in Hastom, she had never once used the back door of this house, only the front. She couldn't even remember the last time she had knocked on said front door. Every time she had been over in the past several years, she had breezed right in as if she had lived there herself; as if she had been family.

Because up until yesterday afternoon, she had been.

And maybe she didn't deserve that distinction after all that had happened, but there was absolutely no earthly way her son deserved what the person on the other side of the door had in mind for him.

Ginny was just raising her hand to knock again (or break a window open if need be) when the back door opened, revealing a woman with pale skin, a worn bathrobe hanging limply over rumbled flannel pajamas, and eyes that burned with a fire so dark they almost snuffed out the hazel in them.

"What do you want?" Nell asked Ginny, quiet contempt dripping from every word.

"Can I come inside?" Ginny asked. "I'd rather not do this in front of the neighbors, if that's alright by you."

It wasn't more than minute, but to Ginny it felt like it took Nell hours of contemplation before she turned her back, leaving the door open a crack behind her. She barely had time to close it as Nell stomped away from her, walking out of the small office, and filled to capacity with books, plant diagrams, and a desk laden with potion supplies. Ginny followed behind her as the older woman swept through the living room and the dining room before she reached the hallways, pulling open a door that led to what Ginny had once recognized as Sophie's room.

The bed was still made neatly with crisp corners, but everything around it was in a state of chaos: half-empty bookshelf, the dresser drawers and the closet spewing out clothes, and tack board with dozens of photographs that had been ripped off it, leaving behind only pieces of a smiling Sophie at various ages looking back.

"Bart and Sophie will be back soon," Nell said. She went over to the bureau and started taking knickknacks and glass figurines down from it, wrapping them carefully in tissue paper as it looked like she had been doing before she had been interrupted by vicious knocking at her back door. Ginny wondered for a moment why she wasn't using magic, but then remembered herself yesterday, her nerves and emotions frayed so raw that even turning on the lights had been dangerous. Nell must still be feeling that way now. "They're at Diagon Alley. She remembered a place called Madame Malkin's that we took the girls to last summer and she wanted to get some nice robes, professional robes, for her travels. Bart can't say no to her now so that's where they are, spending Godric knows how much on robes she'll probably outgrow in a year so just say what you need to say. I don't want you here when they get back, it'll just upset her all over again."

"I was making you a cake."

Nell furrowed her brows sharply, a magenta unicorn in her hand.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was making you a cake: a spiced loaf cake with crushed almonds inside and plum syrup to drizzle on top. That's your favorite and I was making it for you, even though I'm rubbish with sugary things and putting them in an oven. But for you, my dear, I was putting in the effort, going the extra mile as it were, because I know my son did a gruesome thing to your daughter and-"

"Gruesome? That's the best you can come up with?" Nell huffed, going back to the figurines.

"-so an hour ago, I was making you a cake. I was going to bring it over here to you, get down on my hands and knees if need be, and beg for your forgiveness." Ginny sidled into the room, plopping down on the bed, running her hands along the white bedspread. "You know the funny thing?"

"You forgot the difference between baking soda and baking powder yet again."

"I really thought I'd get it," she said as if she hadn't heard Nell. "I really thought that after all these years, after everything we've fought for and through together that you could find a way to forgive **me**, at least. I realize that James," Ginny watched as Nell stiffened at the name, "won't get your forgiveness for quite a while, if ever, and I understand that. I do. So does he and so does Harry. My son deserves your anger and your venom right now." She pulled the folded parchment from the pocket of her jeans and tossed it in Nell's direction. "But he doesn't deserve this and you damn well know it."

Nell picked it up and brought it back to Ginny without looking at it, holding it in front of her face.

"This has nothing to do with you or Harry. The two of you won't be asked to leave. You won't be affected by this at all."

"Are you kidding me?" Ginny snatched it back and pulled herself up to her full height. "You think this won't 'affect' my husband or me? You're trying to get James's citizenship revoked! You're trying to get him cast out of Hastom like he was a common criminal! He's going to have stand before the entire village and answer to everyone for what he's done to Sophie. How could you do such a thing?"

"I didn't **do **anything! Your son is a citizen of Hastom. We hold ourselves to a higher standard of behavior than they do in the outside world. We strive every day to make sure the darkness out there doesn't make its way here." Nell's glare sharpened to a razor point. "Do you have any idea of the darkness that boy has brought into my daughter's world? So much so that she doesn't want to stay here anymore. This isn't her home anymore. All this place is for her now is a daily reminder of the lies your son told her and all the betrayals that was every time he told Sophie he loved her. I did my duty as a lifelong citizen of Hastom and alerted my elders to someone living in these borders that doesn't come within a thousand miles of measuring up to the title he was blessed with. If they choose to expel him, then so be it." Her long hair nearly slapped Ginny across the face as she turned back and continued on with the task of packing away her daughter's life.

The anger didn't surprise Ginny; she'd seen Nell rage and holler countless times over their friendship. That wasn't what scared her. What scared her was the look in Nell's eyes and the sound of her voice when she spoke of James. There was revulsion oozing from her very pores, as if just the thought of him made her want to wrap her hands around someone's throat and just squeeze until her wrath was sated.

_She hates him_, Ginny thought numbly. _She actually hates him._

"Y-You said it yourself, Nell," Ginny struggled to say, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill that was seeping into her bones. "He's a boy. He's just a boy and he made a terrible, terrible mistake that he's sorry for-"

"Mistake?! One mistake?!"

"Fine! Many mistakes, countless mistakes, mistakes on top of his mistakes! Damn it, you were that age once, too! It's hard to know sometimes what's right when everything around you feels like it's out of your control."

"So you're excusing his behavior?"

"Not in the least. He was an idiot and he was selfish and he got a girl a pregnant when he should have been making up a guest list for a wedding with Sophie and because of that, he might very well have to pay the consequences by raising a child for the rest of his life. You can't rip him away from the only home he's ever known right now. You just can't."

"My daughter will pay, too." Nell looked over at the tack board, at what was left of Sophie's innocence, tears in her eyes. "Do you think she will ever truly trust anyone with her heart again after this? She needs me and her father more than anything else right now and what is she doing? She's running away as fast as she can because she can't take the idea of facing…him anymore."

"It's her choice to leave. I know you hate it and I do, too, but if it's what she needs to do to heal now than maybe-"

"Maybe she wouldn't want to run if she knew your son wouldn't be living here."

"James, Nell. His name is James and I know you can't imagine being in a room with him now, but you've known him his whole life! That's got to count for something! He trick-or-treated with your girls since he was three and he took his first steps in your backyard!" Ginny was in tears herself, again. "You pulled him out of my womb, you watched along with me as he grew inside my stomach, and you were the one in that blasted office the day I almost gave him away, helping me to see how much I needed him and loved him." She walked right up behind Nell and laid a hand on her trembling shoulder, turning her dearest friend to face her. "Please remember all of that. You have to."

"I do," Nell whispered, keeping her eyes on her daughter's pictures for a long while before turning back to Ginny. There was such bitter resentment and shame in her eyes that Ginny had to take a step back. "I remember all of it, especially that day I met you. For the past twenty-four hours, that's all been running through my mind: how scared you looked on that table, how sorry I felt for you, and most of all how much I could see you loved that little baby inside you that was barely bigger than a speck of a fingernail. And I wish…I wish now that I had just brewed that potion for you so he never would've been born in the first place."

Ginny's mind left her body for an instant, just a short instant. She didn't see or hear anything. It was only when she felt the fire lancing through her right hand that she came back to herself. She looked down, expecting to see flames blistering her skin; all she saw was redness across her palm and shattered glass at her feet. It was only as her eyes slowly moved up that she saw Nell crumpled on the floor, colored pieces of Sophie's figurines all over the room, broken to pieces when Nell's body had slammed against the bureau from the force of Ginny's slap.

"Don't…Don't come near my house or me for a very long time," Ginny finally said when she found her voice again, backing out of the room.

Putting her aching hand to her mouth, she fought to hold back her cries as she made her way to the front door, but she recoiled when she reached for the doorknob.

_Back door_, she ordered herself. _Use the back door._

* * *

"I can't believe she would do this," Harry said for the fifth time that hour, staring down at the parchment from Sapien. "This is insane."

They were together on their bed, Harry against the headboard and Ginny on her side with her back to him, trying to make sense of this latest obstacle. James had sent word at three in the afternoon, telling them he was safe and at Kerri's flat, talking things over and would be well into the night. The clock by the bedside table read seven o'clock and the sun was lowering steadily in the sky, after another exasperating day in the life of the Potter family. They were probably close to setting some heretofore unknown record.

"I know," she agreed tiredly.

Ginny felt his hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles at the base of her spine. "Did you really hit her?"

"Yes."

The bed shifted as Harry scooted over, wrapping himself around her body. Ginny sighed in the warmth of his familiar scent and touch, the combination of which never failed to unruffle any feathers her head might be tangled up in.

"She'll forgive you," he said, nuzzling her neck, "and you'll forgive her."

"I don't want to."

"Someday you will."

She thought of the idea of James not existing, of not being able to watch him grow and play, and give her sticky kisses on her cheek as she put him down for bed. How could any mother, no matter how angry they were, ever want to unwish something as sacred and pure as another woman's child?

If there was a day she was going to forgive Nell Nixon, it was far, far off on the horizon.

Turning over, she looked at her husband closely, bringing a hand to his cheek.

"You have to promise me something."

"Anything, luv."

"You have to promise not to change anything about yourself."

He smiled a little. "I'll remind you of that when I kiss you tomorrow with morning breath."

"I'm serious, Harry. Everything in our lives is coming apart at the seams: our son isn't who we thought he was; our friends are shunning us; we might even be forced to watch James lose his citizenship here." Her thumb traced the contours of his cheekbones. "You're the only thing keeping me tethered to sanity right now. If you start growing out a beard or carving ducklings out of tofu or something like that, my head might really just come off my body. So none of that maturing nonsense. You stay exactly as you are right here and now for all the rest of time. Do you hear me?"

"Can't have that beautiful head floating around with nowhere to go now can we? On my honor," he held up his hand in a pledge, "I swear never to start carving ducks out of tofu."

"Thank you," she said, fighting a smile. Twining her fingers through his, she settled their hands between them.

Together they reveled in the peace of the moment before Harry brought them back to reality.

"I'll need to spend some time at the library tomorrow, looking over the village records and bylaws for anything regarding expulsion." Pulling Ginny closer, he curled an arm around her shoulder. "I've never seen or heard of any kind of petition like this being brought forward."

"Do you think they'll actually go through with it?" she asked in a small voice. "Do you think they'll make him leave?"

The thought made her sick. Hastom was the place she had battled for at times during her trial period; never for herself but always for James, so he could have a home where he'd always be safe. Somewhere for his feet to land on solid ground if he ever should lose his way up in the clouds.

He needed Hastom now, more than ever.

They all did.

"I have no idea."

"If they do, then…then I don't…"

Harry kissed her forehead. His lips lingered there.

"I don't want to stay here, either."

"Where would we go?"

"London, maybe. Or somewhere in the country, like a sleepy town in Ireland or Wales. Hell, we can even go live aboard if you want. It doesn't matter where we end up. Our home isn't the place where we pay property taxes." His finger lightly sketched the skin between her breasts peeking out of the buttons of her shirt, but there was nothing sexual about his touch. "It's right here. I could be living in a dirt alley covered only in threadbare rags and I'd be just fine if you were next to me, Ginevra."

It overwhelmed her sometimes. The love she felt for this man did all the things love was supposed to do for those foolish and brave enough to give in to its call: her heart would beat faster; her breath would catch in way that was far too girly for her comfort; every romantic song and poem she heard was written with them in mind and every kiss from him made her soar up to the stars.

It made her feel other things sometimes, though, things she didn't like to feel. Not a day had gone by since she had accepted the Persem diamond that still shone brightly from her ring finger, that her heart hadn't felt fear in some form. Fear that he'd die doing the work he loved, fear that he'd die slow and painfully while she could only watch, fear that he'd grow restless with her and leave; most of all, fear that deep down inside, he didn't—couldn't—love her as much as she loved him.

They weren't brand new. Ginny had faced all of these fears and then some with Harry's help and patience. Just as she knew she had helped him face his own demons when they made the choice to make a life together, with James nestled between them, their son growing like Devil Snare. But, just because fear had been given a face and a name, didn't mean it lost its hold or its power. Sometimes the identity only made fear all the more patient, having the fortitude to tuck itself into a quiet corner of Ginny's soul; peering it's head out every once in a while to remind her of how empty her life would be without Harry.

Now was one of those times.

It was also not the time to indulge it and it was definitely not the time for the focus to be on Harry or on her. There was someone else that mattered more than her fear, that had always mattered more than her fear, and she wouldn't let herself forget her oldest.

She made herself smile under Harry's ministrations.

"A dirty alley and threadbare rags? You got a fantasy you've been keeping to yourself, Potter? Because that's not any fun for either of us."

Harry's mouth dropped open. A light blush stained his cheeks and it made him look like a teenager again, something that did wonders to push Ginny's melancholy aside for the time. As did the feel of Harry's hand moving to cup her rear and push her slightly until she was lying across his chest, his lips resting tantalizingly close to hers.

A burst of light flew into the room, shattering the mood within it. A coyote leapt to the foot of the bed and eyed the occupants of it with anxious eyes.

"I'm Apparating home now," James's voice told them. "We need to talk. Immediately." The Patronus vanished from sight and Harry and Ginny scrambled off the bed.

"What do you think that means?" Ginny asked, hurrying to the door as the crack downstairs alerted them of their son's arrival.

"Not a clue, luv. Don't think it'll take long to find out, though."

They raced down the stairs together to find James pacing near the fireplace, cracking his knuckles together. His nose was swollen the dark circles under his eyes were nearly black now.

"What happened?" Ginny asked. Before he could speak, she put her wand to his nose and fixed the obvious break in it, ignoring his flinch. "What did you decide?"

"Nothing. Nothing yet." His eyes bounced between his parents, rubbing his healed nose. "She wants to meet you, Mum. Kerri, I mean. She wants to meet you."

_She does?_

"She does?" Harry mimicked Ginny's thoughts out loud. "Why does she want to do that?"

"I-I'm not sure. She's actually been pretty quiet today." He took a deep breath and began to explain. "I caught her just outside her flat going to work and I stopped her. She was surprised, to say the least, but she called the bakery she works at and said she wasn't coming in. We went back upstairs and waited for her chatty flat mates, Chelsea and Morgan, to clear out for the day, just…just talking to them about weather and school for the longest bloody time. I felt like I wanted to dig my fingernails into the table, it was so awkward. Anyways, when the yammering girls finally left after the longest hour of my life, we finally got around to what we needed to talk about, I didn't even let her get into anything about the baby before I pulled my wand out and conjured a loaf of bread out of thin air. I told her that magic was real, that I was a wizard, and the kid she was carrying would probably fly on a broomstick someday." He gestured to his face. "She promptly screamed and connected her right fist with my nose."

At once, Ginny felt a very similar urge rise up inside her.

"James!" Harry admonished. "What the hell were you thinking?! You don't just blurt that out to a Muggle! Especially a pregnant one!"

"And now I know that. I've never talked about magic to anyone who wasn't a wizard before. I just thought it should be quick, like ripping off a bandage. I just conveniently forgot how much ripping off bandages hurt."

"Did she calm down?" Ginny asked with a frown. "Or did she just run off?"

"No, no I used my wand to lock the door before she made a break for it and after I partially healed my nose, I told her about Pete. I asked her if she ever remembered him doing strange things when they were kids and that quieted her down. She told me how he'd make cakes just appear in his lunchbox or that sometimes, when the bullies were chasing him around the schoolyard, they'd suddenly stop, like they were frozen in place. She thought she had just made the whole thing up in her head. I told her it wasn't her imagination; it was magic and it was real.

"We sat down at the table again. Well, I sat down. She started making cookies from scratch, but she listened while I told her about Hogwarts, about parts of London that only wizards knew of, about Hastom, and about you guys and Al and Lil. I even think I went on about Quidditch for almost an hour, when the timer on her oven dinged and she pulled out the best oatmeal cookies I've ever eaten in my life. We wolfed down a dozen of them in about ten minutes before she started in on herself: her childhood, her friends, her job, how she wanted to open her own sweet shop one day and about how she's never had a boyfriend for longer than three weeks. When she was done, she finally asked what magic meant for the baby and for us because the world she lives in doesn't revolve around broomsticks and cauldrons; it's filled with bills, parties, and getting through the day without smoking a cigarette."

"She smokes?" Ginny made a face od disgust until she caught James's glare.

"Not anymore. She quit six months ago. Her point was that she wasn't sure how she was going to fit a baby into her normal life, let alone into one where people travel around in fireplaces. She…She thought about not having it and not telling me; just getting it over and done with. Something stopped her though, and that's when she tried to find me. According to her, there were two of us that night being irresponsible so it should be the two of us now deciding what the responsible thing was."

"And the responsible thing to you is?" Harry asked.

James silently asked Ginny if she had told Harry of his resolve. She shook her head and the young man faced his father, nearly eye-to-eye.

"I told her that if it were up to me and me alone, I would want the baby to be born. I would want raise it and try to be the best father to it I could. That, to me, is the responsible thing."

"You're certain?"

"About anything? No, I'm not. I just know that doing…anything else feels wrong."

Harry simply nodded in grim acceptance.

"Well, what did she say to that?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He bit back a growl of frustration. "She just laid her head down on the table and started crying her eyes out. I froze, which admittedly was a bit jackassy of me, but when I finally went to put a hand on her shoulder, she pushed me away and ran into her room, slamming the door in my face. So I just knocked and begged and stood out there like an idiot for…forever until she slipped this," he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed to Ginny, "under the door. That's when I came here."

There were seven words on the paper:

_**Can you bring your mother here now?**_

"Tonight? She wants to see me tonight?"

"Yes."

"W-Why? Why would she want to talk to me? She doesn't know me. I could be a monstrous ogre who wants to bite her head off."

"Are you that?" James raised his eyebrows expectantly and Ginny couldn't form an answer. He scoffed loudly. "I don't believe this!"

Her nostrils flared out.

"I haven't met the woman yet and she's already managed to help derail your entire future! Forgive me if I don't want to go get my nails done with her!"

James opened his mouth to speak again, but Harry stepped between them.

"Both of you, cool it. Right now. We need no more screaming or name-calling." Once they were both settled, he took Ginny by the shoulders. "I think you should go talk to her."

"What?! This is not appropriate!"

"Maybe not, but whatever your feelings for her, Kerri is obviously in need of some help right now. She needs to talk to someone and for whatever reason you're who she's chosen to reach out to. Don't you have an obligation as a person to reach back?"

_He always has to give me airtight logic. He never leaves any cracks or crevices to crawl through, does he?_

"Fine," she sighed resignedly. "Just…Just let me put a pair of socks on, yeah?"

With nary more than a whisper, James waved his wand and new outfits appeared over Ginny and Harry. "There. Socks, shoes, and the whole nine yards. Ready now?"

"James! You can't-"

"Mum! Time limit here! I left a pregnant woman alone and crying. What good can come of that?"

Having to satisfy herself with planning his future punishment in her mind, Ginny quickly took James's extended arm as Harry took the other. Just before the world pressed in, Ginny spotted something on the quiet table and shot her free hand out for it. Her fingers just barely closed around the box of tissues before the three of them disappeared.

_First Trimester Tip #1: Always have a box of tissues handy._

* * *

They landed in what was perhaps the tiniest kitchen Ginny had ever seen. The three of them barely squeezed in the space between the table and gas stove. The only thing from the kitchen to the sitting room was the white-tiled floor and the shag carpet covered in scruffs and stains. All the walls in the common areas of the apartment were a putrid pea green, covered in pictures in mismatched frames, and from the small window over the third-hand sofa, Ginny could see the nearest apartment was suffocatingly close by. She was sure she could reach her arm out the window and manage to touch the dirty bricks on the other side.

As soon as they were all steady, James pulled Ginny with him through an archway and into a hallway, turning right and heading for the last door.

Before he raised his hand to knock, he looked to his mother again and mouthed the words, "Be. Nice."

"Fine," she mouthed back.

"Kerri?" He tapped the door softly three times. "I have my mum, Ginny, with me." Silence answered him. "Do you still want to talk to her?"

Slowly, the doorknob started to turn until the latch clicked and an eye that was a darker blue than any Ginny had ever seen blinked back at them.

"How did you get in?" Kerri asked, her words raspy and forced. "I-I didn't hear the front door."

"Oh, uh, we Apparated in. I'm sorry, I should've checked with you and made sure that was okay. I just wanted to-"

"Apparated?" The door opened wider to reveal a slender girl a few inches taller than Ginny, her soft gold hair streaked with turquoise and pulled into a messy knot. Her dark make-up was smeared all under her eyes and the yellow men's shirt she wore was tied up under her chest, exposing her thin, bare stomach. Unconsciously, Ginny's eyes strayed to it. "Is that…Is that the thing where you vanish into thin air then reappear somewhere else?"

"Yeah." He quirked a corner of his mouth up. "So you were paying attention. I wasn't sure there for a minute."

"I was. How's…How's your nose?"

"Right as rain. Don't worry about it."

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"I showed up unannounced at your home and turned your whole world on its head. Again. You were within your rights to take out your feelings on my nose. Seriously, don't worry. My mum's fixed far worse than this with nary a flick of her wrist."

"Mrs. Potter?" Ginny's head jerked up at the sound of her name. Kerri was staring at her, a hand sticking out, and no smile, not even a polite one. "I'm Kerri Smithfield."

"Ginny Potter." Unable to help herself as she shook the girl's hand, Ginny blurted out, "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I don't want you to think I'm a liar."

"Mum!"

"No, it's okay," Kerri said before Ginny could apologize. "It's fine. We're all a bit frazzled. Stuff is just bound to slip out."

"Look, my dad's in the kitchen. We all kind of came together. Do you want me to get him, too, or-"

"No, no." Kerri wiped off her ruined make-up as best she could with her bare hands. "Um…Cee-Cee and Morgan are going to be home from work soon. Why don't you and your dad head out so I can talk with your mum." She glanced nervously at Ginny. "If that's alright with you, ma'am."

"That's…Sure, that's fine."

James opened his mouth, the objection in his eyes and Kerri held her hand up, closing her eyes.

"This is going to make me sound like such a bitch and I'm sorry for that, but just let me say it and know that I mean it in the nicest possible way. It's been wonderful that you've come here and talked with me and…and listened. You're a great listener, James, and nine blokes out of ten wouldn't be as supportive about this whole thing as you have been today." She opened her eyes and smiled sadly. "The thing of it is, now I need you to go. You've been here listening and talking for hours, but now I just…my head is jumbled up seventeen billion ways from Sunday and to get it back on a little bit straighter, I need to not hear your voice and see your face for a while. Okay?"

Ginny wished she could give them some privacy as their eyes spoke to one another between the distance of two feet. She couldn't, though, and that was by their decree.

"I didn't do anything wrong?" James asked when their eyes were finished talking.

"No. No, you were perfect." She laughed a little. "I just need you to go be perfect somewhere else now. I need some space"

"Go home with your father," Ginny chimed in. "Get something to eat and I'll come home as soon as sh-Kerri and I are done talking."

"Okay." He glanced back at Kerri. "Can I come by sometime tomorrow? I mean, can we talk more about…everything?"

"Yeah. Sure. I, uh, I open tomorrow at the bakery so come by around two."

"Goodnight." He nodded to her and after a second, bent to give Ginny a kiss on her cheek. "Be nice," he reminded her in a whisper. He strode back towards the kitchen and his father. A moment later, they both vanished leaving Ginny and Kerri alone.

The silence was heavy, bearing down on them and refusing to be ignored. Two women, two complete strangers; they'd barely spoken to each other and the words had been only somewhat civil yet they were connected in one of the most binding ways any two people could be:

They were united by blood.

The thought pushed Ginny out of her stupor and not knowing what else to do, she thrust the box of tissues at the startled girl.

"Here, these are for you. I…I didn't know if you needed anymore."

"Yeah, thanks." She played with box between her hands. "I think I've cried more in this week than I have my whole life."

"I'm sorry about before. About what I said when-"

"Oh, don't worry on it. You told me something about yourself when you did."

"What was that?"

She smiled softly.

"That you aren't going to lie me." She gestured inside her room. "Do you want to come in? My flat mates will be here soon and this is the only place we'll have any privacy."

They entered together and Ginny found a room that was nearly spotless, with a single twin bed pressed up against one peach wall and a dresser pressed against the other. The small vanity took up most of the room with the bookcase next to overflowing with what looked like cookbooks in all states, from brand-new to weathered down.

_She could use some Spell-O-Tape_.

In the organized clutter, there was something missing. Something Ginny couldn't put a finger or perhaps was just too tired to try to. Either way, she sat down on the small padded stool Kerri had pulled out for and waited to see why she had been brought here in the purpose.

"Were you always a witch?" Kerri asked, taking the tissues and sitting down across from Ginny on the bed.

"I'm sorry?"

"James said that not everyone is born into magic, that some people live in normal families and they end up being witches or wizards. I was just curious. Were you always one?"

"Yes, I was," she replied. When Kerri didn't speak again, she kept talking, even though she had no idea what the young woman wanted to hear. "My family is actually one of the oldest pureblood families in Great Britain. That means we don't have any Muggle blood dating back centuries."

"Does that matter? What your blood is? I mean, is someone less of wizard or whatever if their…their mother never picked up a wand?" She dabbed carefully at her eyes with her shirt and avoided Ginny's firm gaze.

"To some people, yes. But those are very stupid, stupid people whose numbers are dwindling every day." Before this went on any further, there was something Ginny needed to know and she thought it best to get it over and done with now, while James wasn't here. "Can I ask you something now?"

"Sure. Ask away."

"Is my son really the father of your baby?"

Ginny wasn't sure what she expected; maybe a snarl or even for Kerri to chuck her bedside clock straight at Ginny's head in indignation. She got neither of those things.

"Yeah," Kerri said simply, meeting Ginny's eyes. "Yeah, it's his."

"Are you sure?"

"Actually, no. Maybe I better check the security footage from the hidden cameras I have planted in here."

Ginny gaped at her from the vanity and she fought to keep her wand holstered. She'd be no good to her family in Azkaban.

"Is this a joke to you?"

"I hope not. It's got a really lousy punch line."

"My son has given up his entire life since you sent him that damned letter. He's been asked to leave his school, he's lost his girlfriend and the people who were like second parents to him, and to top it off, he might be forced to leave his home so if there is any—I mean **ANY**—chance he is taking the blame for someone else, you better tell me now or every hour of every day of the rest of my life will be lived for only one thing: making sure you understand what the meaning of the word 'retribution' is."

Kerri's brows furrowed deeply, her forehead creasing.

"You love him."

"Of course I do. He's my son, how could I not?"

"Oh, it's possible. Believe me, it's possible." Her smile became tight and pained. "I lived it myself, you see."

It clicked suddenly for Ginny what she had noticed missing from the room: photographs. There were no pictures anywhere in the room of Kerri and anyone who looked like her.

"You don't have a family."

"No, ma'am."

"You didn't…Your mum wasn't a good mum."

"No, ma'am."

Ginny nodded in understanding. "And you're worried about what kind of mother you'll be to this baby because you have nothing positive to compare it to."

Kerri didn't reply, only sniffed as quietly as she could and used the back of her sleeve to wipe her nose and messy eyes.

"Kerri."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Use the tissues."

"Okay." A pause. "And yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, the baby belongs to James. I'll…I'll take a test to prove it if you want, but I swear it's his."

"I believe you," Ginny murmured, not understanding why, only that she did. This woman was carrying her grandchild and that bridge had been crossed.

"I just," Kerri said, following Ginny's instructions and pulling a wad of tissues out of the box, "I don't want to screw a kid up. I can't do that. I was the kid who got screwed up, first by my pill-popping birth-giver person, then by the foster care system and this is what I turned into: broke, no prospects for university, no sense of trust in anything, and certainly no taste whatsoever in men." She blew her nose loudly into the tissue and glanced with shame at Ginny. "No offense."

"None taken." Ginny grew somber and turned to the vanity, rifling through the various lipsticks and nail polishes on it. "Truth be told, I don't know what kind of man James is right now. He told you, didn't he? About…well, about the other…"

"Girls? Yeah, I figured. From what I remember, he played all his moves correctly that night at the pub. I wasn't the first girl he charmed into a bed."

"Yes, there were those girls," Ginny sighed, "but there was also another girl; a more serious kind of girl."

"Sophie." Ginny blinked in surprise. "Yeah, he told me. Not a lot. He got upset when she came up in the conversation. He did seem pretty definitive on it being over between them. Was it because of me?"

"In part. You didn't give him any choice but to tell her what he had done. Mostly, though, it was James. Even without you, I don't know if it would've worked out. He wasn't ready for what it meant to be committed to someone and he handled it badly."

"Due respect, ma'am, that's not really something that helps my situation right now."

"His heart is good. He just wasn't listening to it for a long time. He is now and it's telling him that he can do this. He can help you take care of this child."

Ginny studied Kerri, sitting on the bed with her knees tucked up to her chest, looking lost only without the hope of ever finding her way back. If it had been her daughter or one of her nieces looking that way, Ginny would be at their sides, cuddling them close to her breast and smoothing their hair back. But this girl, this girl had probably never known the gentle touch of a mother, and maybe she wouldn't respond to it the same way. If it wasn't for the greatest luck to be born into a loving family, Ginny could have been this girl eighteen years ago.

"You're what? Nineteen?"

"I'll be twenty in a couple of weeks."

"I was about your age when I got pregnant with James and it was completely out of left field. You could've knocked me unconscious with the flick of a finger, I was so stunned. And…And I considered…not…not having him. I couldn't go through with it and," she shrugged, "my husband thinks I'm crazy when I tell him this, but I swear to you that I could feel my baby inside me, even right after I found out. Everything inside me—my stomach, my chest, my head—it all felt differently when that test turned up positive." Slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, she perched next the trembling girl on a corner of the bed, "Did you feel different, Kerri, when you found out for sure?"

"I-I don't have anything to offer," she tried to say. "I don't have anything to give it. There's barely any room for me here and I can't afford anything else."

"What did you feel?"

"My job is shit. My boss's wife can't stand me. I barely make enough in a month to cover my share of the rent, let alone utilities."

"What did you feel?"

"I don't have any real friends, just people to go out almost every night and drink with until I can't see straight. I drink to make everything go dark so I don't have to deal with it for a few goddamn hours."

"Kerri, what did you feel?"

She pressed her forehead to her knees, wrapping herself even tighter into herself, trying to shield out everything and everyone.

With great care, Ginny laid a hand on Kerri's back. The younger woman stiffened to almost a tightrope, but Ginny left her hand where it was.

"If you want it, you have help now. You have people in your life right at this very minute who will help you with money, who will help you find a better job, if that's what you want, and who will help you learn how to be a mother." She finally lifted her hand up to play with one of the bluer locks before tucking it behind Kerri's ear, the words barely a whisper as they came out. "And if you don't want any of that, we'll help you find a safe way to end this pregnancy and get you support for afterwards so you can move on with your life. No matter what, I will help you."

"Why?" Kerri asked, her voice muffled and soaked with pain.

"Because," Ginny began before her own tears trapped the words in her throat. She used her very last reserves to push them back down and continue. "Because when I was in your position, someone helped me and I wouldn't be the person I am today if someone had just brushed me aside."

"But…But this is your son's…Why would you, his mum, help me terminate it?"

He'd smack her if he heard her now. James would surely smack her in the face right now, but it didn't mean it shouldn't be said.

"His future shouldn't come at the expense of someone else's."

It took time for Kerri's quiet sobs to ease, a long time. Long enough for the moon to come out and for the loud footsteps of her flat mates to reverberate across the hallway floors.

When the shaking of her body eased and her breathing returned to normal, Ginny heard her whisper something.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you."

Kerri tried again, but it wasn't any clearer.

"Can you lift your head up for me? Please?"

Ginny put her hand to Kerri's forehead and barely used the tips of her fingers to brush against the warm skin, easing back her head until their eyes met.

"What did you say, dear?"

"Different, ma'am. I felt different."

* * *

Harry and James were eating in the living room, the pizza box already half-empty by the time Ginny Apparated back into their home.

James immediately dropped his slice mid-bite and stood when he saw his mother.

"Well, what happened?" He kept his voice as level as he could, trying to contain himself to one spot. "What did you talk about?"

"We…We, um, we…." There was a glob of tomato sauce hanging from his chin that she had to fight herself to keep from wiping off his face like when he was a boy. "She made a decision. About the pregnancy."

James sucked in a deep breath, his fingers going nerveless.

All the air left the room. All the emotions left the room. They were static, immobile. Once Ginny said the words, they could no longer live in a state of limbo where nothing was happening and everything would wait for another day. One way or another, the dye was cast and they'd all live with the picture that came from it.

From his spot, Harry chewed his lip in worry as his eyes met his wife's. Did he need to wrap a consoling arm around his son or pop over to the general store for cigars?

Ginny couldn't tell him. She wasn't sure, either, whether this was a funeral or a celebration. For now, it just was what it was and she addressed her son.

"You're going to be a father."

There was still air left in the room because the rest of it left at her words. Where there was once limbs locked in tension, they were now frozen with fear of what unknowns lay ahead as they set forth on a path they'd never be able to turn back from.

"Congratulations."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hey everyone ! I hope you find this chapter to be worth the longer-than-intended wait. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.**

"And…And that's everything. That's everything that's happened with your brother."

If Ginny had imagined the anxiety eating away at her insides would be satisfied once James's news was open knowledge to her two younger children, or that she'd feel like a somewhat competent mother again when she and Harry could stop keeping secrets from them, she had been wrong on both accounts.

Sitting in the empty classroom with Al and Lily at Hogwarts before dinner began, watching them try to process in a few moments of stunned silence what it had taken Ginny herself nearly two weeks to accept, her mind reverted back to those first days in the hospital when James was a newborn, wailing for comfort while she floundered for the answers he needed from her.

It was strange. Healers, Muggle mechanics, even pubs that sold alcohol all required licenses in order to be qualified to operate, but any woman could just push a child out of her body and unless there were glaring red flags to the contrary, society deemed her a fit mother and sent her on her way for the next eighteen years. That shouldn't be the case. A mother should have to go in every few years to be evaluated by a team of professionals (who actually knew what they were doing) so her skills could be assessed and refined as needed. Really, just because Ginny had once exceled at nappy changing with one hand and produced the funniest voices imaginable during bath time play only meant that she was capable of mothering her brood through their infancies and childhoods.

Adolescence was another game entirely, one she still needed to learn the rules to.

Especially if her other two followed in the footsteps of their trailblazing big brother.

"Do you guys have any questions? Anything you need to know we didn't cover?" Harry asked from his place beside Ginny.

Al, perched on the desk across from his parents, loosened his school tie even more. "Where's Jamie now?" he asked quietly.

"In the headmaster's office with Professor Longbottom," Ginny said. "He's making arrangements to finish his classes by correspondence."

Lily raised her eyes to her mother. She was wearing her hair parted on one side. It made her look older, more mature than twelve and Ginny hated it.

"So, he's not coming back to school? Ever?"

"No, he isn't," Harry said.

"What about his N.E.W.T. exams? How's he going to find any kind of decent job without them?"

"He'll sit for the exams in December, Al, just before holiday break. His teachers have all agreed to test him on an individual basis. He thinks it's more important to be close to his…to Kerri right now than to be in school."

"Yeah, but only three months to get ready for N.E.W.T.s? All by himself? That's mad." Al frowned to himself. "I was going to help him study. We made a deal about it over the summer: I'd get him through his last year here and he'd convince you guys to get me a new broom for my birthday."

"Well, he'll just have to figure out how to manage on his own." Ginny reached over and patted his knee. "We'll talk about the broom at Christmastime."

"I wasn't going to do it for a stupid Firebolt, Mum."

"I know, sweetheart."

"Does everyone else know? Grannie and Grandpa and-?"

"They will soon, if they don't already," Harry said. "We sent out letters before we came here to talk to you two. It seemed the most expedient way to get it done. Not that we're expecting it, but we also asked them to give us some more time away from them. Just until the hearing's over and we know where James stands.""

And there was the added bonus of not having to look on everyone's faces as they realized what a remarkable failure you were as a parent. No doubt, she and Harry would both be on the receiving end of many a disappointed look or comment over their shared cowardliness on the matter, (not to mention the Howlers from her mother that were probably sitting on their doorstep already) but the luxury of a few days, even just a few more hours of peace outweighed all other costs.

"Good. Everyone up here stopped buying the bad flu story by the third day James wasn't in class; especially on the heels of you guys saying you were on a holiday. All the Weasleys know you're more smothering than Grannie when me, Jamie, or Lil are sick, Mum." To Ginny's delight, Al gave them both a smile. "Rose and Lucy were getting ready to launch their own full-scale investigation. Enumerated lists were made and everything."

"Enumerated lists, eh?"

"Oh yeah, Dad. There were reams of parchment filled with plans and theories in sequential order. That is, until Louis found them all and turned them into a moving replica of a certain Slytherin getting his pants pulled down to his ankles."

"Is James going to live with us anymore?" Lily asked out of the blue, bringing the lighthearted exchange to a halt.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you said that he's going to stand before the village in three days and they'll decide if he's a citizen of Hastom anymore. What if they say he isn't?" She glanced between both of her parents with wide eyes. "What if they say he can't live there? Will he have to leave right then and never come back?"

_Ah, there's my girl. Always diving right in, never shying away when it gets tough._

"It's…Well, um…your mum and I have decided that if…if James should be told that-"

"If James leaves Hastom, we will as well," Ginny finished, keeping her eyes on her daughter and bracing herself.

She knew the girl's nature. After all, it was Ginny's very own.

"W-What do you mean?"

"We'll find another home. Together, as a family."

"But we have a home. Hastom is our home. It always has been."

"Our home is where we all are. It's not a dot on a map or even anywhere that has a name. Now your brother needs us to-"

"Why should I care what he needs?" Lily spit out, her cheeks flaming. "He obviously doesn't care about any of us or anyone except himself! If he did, he wouldn't have treated Sophie like…like…like she was something I can't say out loud because Mum will smack all the other curse words out of my mouth."

"Alright, alright, calm down." Harry took his daughter by the shoulders and knelt down to meet her eye. "You're angry and that's perfectly fine. You have every right to be. James did an awful thing to Sophie; to all of us, really. But he's trying to make it right and we owe him the chance to do it."

Lily sniffed quietly but her eyes defiantly refused to water. "Gigi will hate me. She'll never speak to me again."

"Luv, she's your best friend. She will never…" Harry trailed off as he seemed to remember another pair of best friends and what these past weeks had done to them.

_Don't finish that sentence, Potter_, Ginny ordered silently, her eyes boring into his neck. _Don't you dare to lie to our daughter._

"Things will be hard between you two," he said instead. "You'll both feel torn between your families and being loyal to each other. We'll all do our best to spare you from the troubles of this whole situation, but I won't pretend that this won't bleed into your friendship. You and Gigi will have to make the decision together that you can get through this." His gaze strayed to his wife. "If you both work at it, it's possible you'll make it through this even better friends than you were before."

"Are you and Uncle Bart talking, working to get through it all together?" When he didn't answer, Lily wrenched herself out of his grasp and turned her ire on her mother. "What about Aunt Nell? You two still going out for a girl's night every Saturday?"

"Lily Luna, stop it," Harry warned.

"You can't even do the things you're telling me to do and you're three times my age! Why should I-?"

"Because we're your parents and after all we've been through with James lately, I won't stand from hearing any lip from you." Ginny stood with her husband, her face reddening along with her daughter's. "This is real life. It's not always easy or pretty or very fun, but it's also not an excuse to indulge in pettiness. And while I may be sorry that you and Gigi are going to be hitting a rough patch, I am not sorry for you, young lady. Know why? Because you won't have to give up school or your other friends or the rest of your life like James will. So why don't we get some perspective on our fortunes before we start spouting off about all the injustices we have to face."

The tempest taking hold within her youngest didn't release its hold at Ginny's words. In fact, its winds grew stronger and more violent.

"I hate him," she said simply, "and if we have to give up everything in our lives because of him, I'm never speaking to any of you again." Turning on her heels, she flounced out of the room.

Harry's hand on her shoulder was the only thing that kept Ginny from racing after the girl and dragging her back by her ear so Ginny could swat Lily's behind until her hand was blistered and sore.

_It's not her fault_, she reminded herself, struggling to calm down. _She didn't know what she was saying. It's not her fault._

It wasn't Lily's fault at all that she didn't know what it felt like to lose a brother. If she did, those awful words would never have passed from her lips.

"She thought they eloped." Harry and Ginny turned to Al, who could only stare down despondently down at his feet. "When Gigi got the letter from Sophie about how she was going to be traveling for a while and with James gone so suddenly, Lily just thought that…you know and that you guys didn't tell us because you were just so pissed at them." He shrugged. "I kind of thought that, too. Would've been much easier than all this."

"Yeah, it would've been," Harry agreed. He gave Ginny one last squeeze before joining their son. "We'll manage it, though."

"Do you really think they'll say he's not good enough to live in Hastom anymore?"

"I don't know, son. I mean, obviously we're going to speak up for him and hope that everyone understands that he's sorry for what he's done, but just because someone's sorry doesn't mean they'll get mercy."

"It's crazy. The whole thing is…" Al scoffed in disbelief. "James is going to be someone's dad. Half the time he doesn't remember to turn the stove off and now he's going to be in charge of a tiny human person. That's out of all bounds of reality, isn't it?"

"Darling," Ginny plopped herself down on Al's other side, wedging him between her and Harry, "you have absolutely no idea."

"She's nice, isn't she? Kerri? She's a good person?"

"Very much so," Ginny said. "I think she's still trying to catch up with everything and get her feet under her again, so she's still a bit distant, but yes, she seems like a nice person. James is being supportive of her and they're getting along well, which is a good start if there ever was one. He's handling this better than I could have ever thought."

"And what about you guys? How are you handling it?"

It was selfish, she knew, to want to be cared about, given everything James was going through. Yet over the past two and half weeks, no one in their small circle of knowing—save for Harry—had asked her how she was doing in the face of such strife.

It was nice to know that she mattered to someone.

Cupping the back of his head, she pulled him down until she could kiss the side of his forehead. "We have faced far worse things than welcoming a baby into the world," she told him. "As long as you three are healthy and safe, I can manage anything."

"I second that," Harry said. "Although I hope, if nothing else, this teaches you that physical relationships always have consequences if you're not careful."

"Dad, come on!" Al grimaced and fidgeted uncomfortably. "Not in front of Mum. Besides," he blushed to Weasley red, "it's a little hard to have a relationship of any kind when you can't even look a girl in the eye."

"Someday, Albus Potter," Ginny said, smiling into his shoulder, "you're going to find it in you to let some insanely lucky girl see what a wonderful young man you are. Though if you could wait fifteen or twenty years, after I've recovered my wits from this ordeal, I'd greatly appreciate it."

"Deal." The sound of footsteps along the stone steps rang out from just outside, signaling the start of dinner and the end to their visit.

"Would you like to go see James?" Ginny stood and hugged Al. "I'm sure he's done sorting out his courses by now."

"Yeah, I would but…well, I think I better go make sure Lily's okay."

_Well, one perfect and reasonable child out of three. There are worse statistics in the world._

"Tell her we love her," Harry instructed, wrapping Al up in his own hug, "and try to keep things calm here. We'll do the same on our end."

"Will do. I'll write to Jamie tonight." A look of uncertainty washed over him. "Do you think it's alright if I write to Aunt Nell and Uncle Bart? See how they are?"

"Not right now," Harry said before Ginny could open her mouth. "They just…They can't separate the rest of us from what James did. We need to give them some time, some space to come to terms with all this."

Al peeled the rest of his tie off and hung it over his shoulder, shaking his head to himself as he left his parents behind.

"That's funny. I wasn't aware we were supposed to give our family space."

Neither was anyone else they were related to. When Harry and Ginny arrived home that night, they found replies from every member of their family sitting on the kitchen table; two more flew in by owl before they could even begin to sort through them. In all those envelopes, they found many things:

There was anger, disappointment, shock, more anger, sadness, confusion, more anger, and a threat from Molly in one of her three Howlers to lock Ginny in the Burrow's attic for the next five decades until she learned not to keep things from her mother.

What was not in any of the letters was anyone turning their backs on them.

* * *

Two days later, Ginny watched in amusement as Kerri tried to untangle the leashes of the four dogs she was handling as the two women strolled leisurely through along a cozy path in Greenwich Park.

"Myanmanease! Stop that right now!"

"That is the most ridiculous name for a dog I've ever heard," Ginny said as the brown terrier tried once again to snake between her legs. "Maybe even for a person, too." A flash of Bart's grin flew past her eyes and she tried to dismiss it just as quickly. "A close second, if nothing else."

"I've heard worse."

"Like what?"

"Like mine."

"Kerri is a perfectly-"

"It's a nickname. My real name is Kerrington." She tugged hard on her litter as the group moved right. "I hate it. My mother thought it made me sound posh or something. She thought that maybe it'd get a wayward duke or a lord to notice me. To a drunk sucking down the dredges from a bottle of vodka I guess it made sense."

Ginny only nodded as they continued on their way in a silence that had become comfortable since their meeting.

She had expected to feel something for this young woman who was carrying her family's next generation, even if she had to do it by force. There was no need for such thoughts, though, because Kerri Smithfield was very easy to care about. The woman had only just entered her twenties and yet there was a compassion to her that spoke of belonging to someone twice as old. Her harsh upbringing was to blame (or perhaps be praised), but the results had produced a woman of stark intelligence mixed with a healthy dose of practicality, both of which gave her a backbone of titanium. Nothing seemed to faze her, and if it did, like with the pregnancy, it didn't faze her for very long. The problem was addressed, a course was decided upon, and she set herself on it without ever looking back. She was someone determined not to repeat the mistakes of the mother she spoke of with only disdain and that fixed goal had helped create a rather formidable woman.

It had also instilled in her a need to keep as much as possible at a distance and that included people trying to help her. Ginny made a point of visiting her at least three or four times a week, sometimes just for a quick chat during Kerri's break, or sometimes for an afternoon together. Their short time together in her bedroom, the night Kerri had decided to keep the baby had shown Ginny how fragile the girl was (or could be) underneath her armor, and it triggered inside Ginny a need all mothers felt: the need to protect, to shield and shelter. Yet for all of Ginny's attempts at offering comfort, Kerri had resolutely shied away from sharing her feelings. It didn't mean their time together wasn't pleasant or enjoyable; Kerri had a sharp wit about her and an interesting opinion on most subjects. She was also eager to learn about the world of magic her child would most likely soon be joining, listening raptly to some of the histories Ginny gave to her. Their bond was strengthening every day. Kerri just had no interest in sharing all the parts of herself.

Not yet, at least.

As far as Ginny could gather, James wasn't having much luck in getting Kerri to open up either. Even though she wanted to know more about their personal relationship, she was doing her best to let the two of them bond without her added interference or opinions; to let whatever relationship they may have someday come about naturally. Whether it was friendship or something strictly based on only their child or someday something romantic, Ginny was doing her best to let them discover what it was on their own. It wasn't fair to James to put any undue pressure on him to make a commitment he wasn't ready for. That lesson had been learned all too well.

"So how are you feeling lately?" Ginny asked to start their conversation up again.

"Alright, I guess. Not sure why, but for some reason being around all that frosting in the bakery helps me with my nausea. Doesn't do a damn thing for the exhaustion, though."

"I could pick up some draughts for you if you'd like. They're miracles, really and truly."

"That's fine. I'll manage without them."

Somehow, Ginny had known that was precisely what she'd say.

They drifted over to a secluded tree as a pair of the dogs did their business. "To be honest, I still think the whole magic thing's a bit wonky. I mean, for Muggles—and I still can't believe that's an actual word—you read stories when you're a kid about witches flying on broomsticks or wizards helping kings become great men and there's always a part of you that wonders if it could really be true, if it actually happened. The older you get, though, the more everything around you tries to show you differently. It fades away after a time." She bent down to retrieve the mess the dogs had left on the ground. "Now, out of nowhere, all that wonder and whatnot is back in my life, at the most inopportune time imaginable. I guess it's just hard to start believing in things again after so long."

"Is that why you haven't consented to see a healer yet?"

Kerri didn't answer. She simply deposited her trash in a bin and kept walking, leaving Ginny behind to lean tiredly against the tree.

_Damn it. Remember, Ginevra: slow steps will get you to exactly the same place as fast ones._

"I'm sorry," she said, picking up her pace to catch up with the girl. "I don't mean to push, but you have to-"

"No, I don't. I really don't." Her multicolored locks wafted in the breeze as she let the animals pull her at their full speed. "All I have to do is take care of myself and this baby in the way that I think is best. That's it, end of story, no sequels or rewrites."

"So just because there's a way to take care of yourself that you didn't come up with all on your own automatically makes it the wrong way?"

"Maybe. My way hasn't done too badly for me up until now. I've got a job-"

"That you hate."

"-an apartment-"

"A broom closet that you share with two twits."

"-and…and…canines." She gave the leashes a firm tug and her pack slowed down. "Everyone loves a good canine companion or two, especially when you can give them back after a couple hours. I've done alright for myself, ma'am."

"It's Ginny, and yes you have. Exceptionally alright. So alright that they're going to have to recall every dictionary in existence so they can redefine the word." A shadow of smile crept along Kerri's face, giving Ginny the courage to continue. "You don't have to settle for 'alright' anymore. There's people around you now that care about what happens to you every day, and they'd very much like to lend you a hand, except they're too afraid that you'll try to chop it off if they try."

She saw a haze settle over Kerri's eyes as the girl stared off at something far in the distance; past the couples reading on benches, the pre-teen boys flying by them on skateboards and scooters, and the dogs of varying sizes nipping at the ones she was in control of.

"You come from a big family, right?" Kerri said after a moment. "A mum, a dad, ten or twelve brothers?"

"Six, actually."

"Okay, well at a certain point, before you even realized you did it, you learned to trust in them; trust that they'd give you food and clothes and a blanket to keep you warm. By trusting them, you learned you could trust other people, and by doing that, you could have relationships and friendships." With a tired sigh, she sat down on the nearest bench and tied the leashes to it. "I didn't get that. I'm not feeling sorry for myself or blaming that for everything that's happened to me; it's just what I had. I accepted that I was going to have to rely on myself in this life. Then you lot come in and all of a sudden I'm supposed to start planning my future around James and this baby."

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. I want this baby, I do. It's just every time you or James offers to take me to a healer or pay my rent or buy me groceries, I want to put my head under water and scream until my throat burns away because…because for the first time I do want it. I want help. Only the second that urge presents itself, I hear that goddamn voice in the back of my head."

"What does it tell you?"

A fluffy white Maltese leapt up onto Kerri's lap and she scratched behind his ear, cuddling him close to her chest.

"That the only reason you all are here in the first place," she said, "is because I was too drunk to make your son wear a rubber. We're sitting on a bench right now on this sunny day because I'm pregnant with your grandchild. We never would have met otherwise. We never would've even known each other's names."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say. People come into each other's lives every day through worse things than a baby. It doesn't change how we feel about you." Ginny sat down beside her. "We want to know **you**. We want to help **you**."

"And if I had had the abortion, would you still want to know me? Would James?" When Ginny couldn't answer, Kerri nodded. "So you want me to give what little trust I have over to people who are taking me on as part of a packaged deal? Thanks, but I'll have to respectfully decline, ma'am."

Ginny tried her best to hold back her sigh. It was so hard to get to know someone when they kept looking high and low for ulterior motives that weren't there. True, the baby was what was bringing them all together. Ginny just didn't understand why that was a bad thing. Her grandchild was going to be just as much of Kerri as it was of James. That made Kerri family to her.

Was it really so wrong for Ginny to want to love a member of her family?

"We're trying," she said softly. "We're all trying to let you set the tone because we know your upbringing doesn't allow for trust to come easily. But we can only do so much. You have to start meeting us halfway. You have to force yourself to learn to let people in. It's going to feel awful and scary at first; anything that isn't natural does. The only way to get past this fear is to put yourself out there in small steps. You'll be happier and…and you'll be a better person in the end. Not to mention a better mum." The shield around Kerri cracked ever so slightly, and Ginny seized the chance, taking the girl's hand. "Tell me something, anything at all. Something that's been bothering you or gnawing at your mind. Let me see if I can help you. Please. Trust me with something, Kerri."

The debate Kerri had with herself was short, but trying. Biting down on her upper lip, she cast her wary eyes at Ginny's encouraging ones before she finally spoke.

"I-I think James doesn't care for me all that much."

_Damn it bloody bullshit hell! What has that boy done now?!_

"Okay," Ginny drawled.

"I'm sorry," Kerri apologized, frowning and reaching into her pocket to give the yapping dogs a small treat. "I didn't mean to say that. You don't have to-"

"No, no. It's…Well, it's not okay, but it does fall within the parameters of anything at all." Schooling her face into neutrality, she turned back to the nervous girl distracting herself by playing with a pair of dainty pugs. "What, uh, what makes you think he's not as invested in…in this?"

"Look, he's fine about the baby," Kerri rushed to reassure her and Ginny swallowed back a breath of relief. "He asks how I feel, if I need anything, when my check-ups at the clinic are so he can come. He's very supportive in that regard."

"Alright, but in other areas he's not?"

"He…The first week he came around, he would stay and chat with me about stuff that didn't have a thing to do with the baby. We'd talk about music, movies we both liked, places we'd been. We were learning, too. He taught me how to play Exploding Snap and I was even teaching him to make biscuits the normal way, my way." She smiled softly at a memory that Ginny could imagine involved James and flour covering most of his clothes. It faded as she continued, "The past few times he's been around, it's more like he's there because he has to be, not because he liked sitting on my couch talking with me."

Ginny frowned in confusion as she pondered what she was hearing.

Did Kerri actually want James to be around for something other than help with the baby?

Did she want…?

"I know the odds of us being an us are slimmer than a blade of grass. He can be a really great bloke and I don't want to force him or trap him to me. I just…I just don't mind having there be a possibility of something more someday." She made a small noise of disgust. "I sound mad, for sure."

"No, you don't. You really don't. You and James are having a child. I think it's reasonable that you have thoughts on the future of your relationship with him, thoughts you should be discussing with him primarily-"

"What happened to small steps?"

"-but until you do, I think I can maybe shed some light on his behavior as of late."

"Okay." She waited expectantly while Ginny tried to determine what facts were prudent to share with Kerri and what she should feel protective of as her son's mother. After a moment, Kerri glanced at her watch. "I do have to take the dogs back to their owners soon, ma'am."

"There's a lot that's happened and you're the one who asked, dear. Off the top of my head, he's nervous about his hearing before our village tomorrow. Did he tell you about that?"

"Bits and pieces. Will they really kick him out because he was a lousy boyfriend?"

"They could, and it's a bit more complicated than that."

"In what way?"

Ginny leaned back onto the bench with a huff. "Actually, your analysis is fairly spot-on. Hastom is a very traditional community and they place a high value on morality and being virtuous."

"Sounds like a bit of a dull place to live."

"It's peaceful. There are hardly any major disagreements or fractions among the villagers. Everyone works together to make life better for themselves and everyone around them." The picturesque lake house where all her children had spent their days playing, reveling unknowingly in the happiness their parents were so proud to have given them brought a small smile to her lips. "It is very peaceful there."

"Again, I'll go with boring."

"If you haven't lived through a war that cost people you love their lives," Ginny admonished gently, "you wouldn't be as blithe about a thing like peace."

"I suppose," Kerri said with a slow nod. "So, James is nervous about this hearing. Is that the only reason you can think of for why he's acting so standoffish?"

"Well, he's leaving school as well, all his friends and his brother and sister. He won't see them as often now. Plus, he'll probably start working sooner than he thought he would. He had talked about traveling abroad for a while after Hogwarts, finding somewhere to settle down with…" The most likely answer to James's seeming aloofness lay in that response and Ginny hoped that she had reined it in in time.

Kerri's downcast eyes told she hadn't.

"Sophie, right? He was going to settle down somewhere with Sophie. The girl he actually loved and wanted a family with."

"She, um, she left five days ago to study in Africa. James wanted to say goodbye. He tried writing to her to see if…if they could meet and…" Ginny thought back to the look on James's face when he had read the four words Sophie had written back in reply. "She didn't want to see him, though, which is perfectly understandable. Except that he loves her very much and this is killing a part of him."

"The part that would let him even consider caring about anyone else?"

"Kerri, if you want to know if James could ever feel about you the way you seem to be starting to feel about him, I can't tell you. Only he can and right now, he's not in any place to give you the answer you want. With time, maybe he could. I don't know. I'm not the keeper of his heart, just his mum. This whole thing, having a baby so young and coming from such different backgrounds, is going to be difficult, more difficult than you can imagine. It might be best for both of you if you focus on the baby right now and put the personal on the backburner. Until you're both ready for it, trying to figure it out is only to going to make a mess of things." She smiled grimly. "I speak from a wealth of personal experience in that regard."

"So to paraphrase," Kerri said, "your advice about potential romantic entanglements to an emotionally crippled pregnant woman struggling with trust issues and feeling as if the entire weight of the world is pressing down on her, is to have her open up to the father of her unborn child about her feelings, then wait patiently for said young man to see if he likes her in return?"

"Yeah," Ginny said realizing how it sounded when it was laid out in front of her. "That about sums it up. But hey, just because it sounds insane doesn't mean it's wrong."

"Got it. Bang up advice, all the way around."

"Well, you let me say it and my hand's still attached. I'd at least call it progress."

"Whatever you say," Kerri said, getting up from the bench. "I've got to get these mutts home to their rich, bored mummies. Oh!" Pulling a small piece of rolled-up parchment from her pocket, she handed it to Ginny. "James left that yesterday. Can you give it to him? He said it had something to do with finding a job."

"Of course."

"Alright. Bye then."

Sliding the paper through her hands, Ginny let Kerri get a good twelve paces away from her before she called out, "You know on a dare, I once lifted a fully grown Blast-Ended Skrewt over my head for eleven whole seconds. I broke the old school record of eight. The beast was nearly twice my length."

"I beg your pardon?" Kerri stopped where she was and turned back to Ginny as the dogs twisted around her again.

"It was heavy, too. Weighed about four stones and it nearly singed me bald."

"Okay…"

"I'm just saying I've got very strong shoulders if you want to share some of that worldly weight with me." She held up her hands in surrender. "Entirely up to you."

The dogs, perhaps sensing the resigned annoyance of their handler, ceased their frolicking and pulled Kerri along the opposite length of the busy path until she had no choice but to go along with them. Not, however, before Ginny caught a flash of hope spark in her eyes.

"Small steps." A brief pause and then, "Ginny."

_Alright_, Ginny thought as she watched Kerri walk away. _Progress is progress, be it a little or a lot. We'll get there eventually._

"Yes, we will," she said aloud in affirmation. "Time to go home. I need to help James get ready for tomorrow, prepare dinner, ignore more well-meaning support from my family, and maybe also to stop talking to myself because strangers are staring."

Getting hastily to her feet, she accidently dropped James's paper on the ground. The breeze blew the already loosened scroll open and she perused it as she bent to retrieve it. The words she read stopped her mid-stoop and she remained bent over at an unnatural angle as the realization of what her son wanted to do for his chosen profession hit her with all the force of a fifty-mile an hour Quaffle smacking her upside the head.

"I'm going to kill him."

* * *

Unfortunately for her son, he was the first person Ginny saw when she managed to make her way home.

"Hey Mum," he said, searching under the sofa for something. "I forgot that I lost my dress shoes ages ago and there's no sense in digging through my room until you guys give me back my wand privileges full-time. Would you mind-?"

"You really have the audacity to ask me anything at all, you selfish boy?" she asked in a low voice.

"That's a bit harsh." He edged out from the sofa and stared up at her from his knees. "I guess I could just either have Dad shrink a pair of his or enlarge a pair of Al's for the hearing."

"You left this at Kerri's." She threw the scroll at his face and he flinched as it bounced off his nose, juggling it between his hands until he could grip it enough to open it. "She asked me to return it to you. She's feeling good today, in case you wanted to know, though I'm sure you didn't."

People could say what they wanted about James, but at least they couldn't say that he tried to lie his way out of something when the evidence was clearly against him. Getting slowly to his feet, he took in a deep breath, preparing himself for the battle ahead.

"It's going to be okay, Mum," he said. "I know this is scary for you, I really do. And this was the last way I wanted you to find out. I've been trying to work out for a while how to tell you and Dad, but I…I promise you I know what I'm doing."

"Oh, do you now?" Ginny retorted. "All seventeen years and nine months of you? You know exactly what you're doing? Wonderful, all my fears are assuaged and I'm filled with peace. Where's your father?"

"Upstairs in his study. He was-"

"HARRY!" She climbed a few of the stairs to make sure she was heard, even though her volume guaranteed the shopkeepers in the center of the village heard her. "GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

Their marriage had had enough of its moments for Harry to know when the shouting was from an actual threat of some kind and when the threat was coming from his wife's shouting. Therefore his steps were markedly slower as he joined his wife on the stairs to stare down at James. His shoulders were sagged and both hands shoved in his pockets, but he faced his parents.

"What's going on?" Harry asked the two of them. "What's happened now?"

"Tell him," Ginny ordered James. "Tell your father right this instance or I will-"

"I've applied to the Auror Trainee program," he said. "I know I'll still need the results of my exams before I'm accepted, but I wanted to get all of the preliminary paperwork out the way so I wouldn't have to wait months for everything to be processed all at once."

The anger inside Ginny bristled and begged to be let out, but she held back as best she could. Now that she had fired off the warning shot, it was Harry's fight to win for them both.

Harry absorbed the initial impact of James's statement with a stoic face and an even stance.

"No," he simply said. "That's not happening, son."

"Dad-"

"We're not discussing this." He turned back up the stairs and James jogged up them in his haste to catch his father, nearly colliding with Ginny as she tried to keep up with their longer legs into the study.

Harry was leafing through a stack of papers in gray folders, the Ministry seal emblazoned on the top of all of them, looking for something in particular.

"What are you doing?" James asked.

"What name did you apply under? I know you didn't use your own; you're too smart for that. What's the name on the application I need to deny?"

"You're overreacting to this, the both of you."

"What's the name?"

"If we could just sit down and discuss this like-"

"Give me the name or I'm passing up on every single applicant. That'll be dozens of young witches and wizards that will have to postpone and/or lose their dreams because of you. What. Is. The. Name?"

The silent battle of staring the two men engaged in was brief but charged.

"Jamison," James spit out, nostrils flaring as he sized his father up from across the desk. "Albert Jamison."

Harry blinked at the name. "Albert Jamison," he said after a beat.

"Clever," Ginny said from her spot by the bookcase when her husband remained silent. "Quite clever."

"Yeah, Mum, well I like to keep it simple. I've never really been one for putting too much thought into anything."

"Don't get cute with me. You knew we'd be angry over this and you did it anyways."

"I also thought you could be rational. My mistake."

"There is no such thing as rational when your child's safety is involved," Ginny retorted. "We have told you and your brother and sister hundreds of times how dangerous it is to be an Auror out in the field. Do you know how many times your father ended up in St. Mungo's because of his work? How many times I slept by his bedside while he was undergoing treatment? Or how many times I'd be awake half the night with worry because I hadn't heard from him for days when he was on a mission overseas?"

"So I can only take on a job where there's no risk to my life? Mum, I could easily fall off a broom to my death or have a potion incinerate a lab I'm in or get bit by a poisonous animal on a reserve somewhere. You could find danger in anything if you looked hard enough."

"Well, then there's no need to whip out a Magnifying Charm in your search."

James shook his head in irritation. "You don't understand anything," he said as he started out the door.

"No, you don't." James stopped at his father's quiet voice but kept his back to his parents. "You don't know anything about this job: What it does to you, what you give over to it, what it takes from you against your will. I've seen men that could crush through a brick wall with just their fist be brought to the brink because of some of the cases we've worked. The wizards we go after are the worst in all creation. I'm not talking about Death Eaters that would torture and kill other wizards because of beliefs; these people, these monsters that I try to catch every day…to them profit is the Dark Lord now and most wouldn't hesitate to use a child as a test subject or force a husband to trade his wife's dignity as a show of force if it was in service to obtaining a Galleon."

Ginny's stomach turned as she watched her son absorb Harry's words. For all these years, Harry had worked his damnedest to ensure their children were shielded from this part of his life. In truth, he even worked hard to shield Ginny from it, but she knew what it could do to him to keep his pain to himself so when the need arose, she gently cajoled the horrors of his day out of him, absolving him of that heartache until he was ready to take it on again.

"Why do you do it then?" James asked after a moment.

"Because I have to. Because a monster once took my family away from me and if there's anything I can do to stop it from happening to anyone else, then I will." Gently, Harry laid a hand on his shoulder. "That's not your burden, son, and I'd never want it to be. Being an Auror isn't something you just decide to do one day, especially when you're going through what you are right now. A decision like this takes time, more time than you've-"

Abruptly, James turned back to meet his father in the eye.

"I've wanted this since I was eight years-old," he said. Without giving either of his shocked parents a chance to recover, he plowed ahead. "Eight years-old; that's when I knew that I wanted to work to make this world safe for other people. Mum brought the lot of us in to visit you at the office for lunch, but you needed to finish something, and we had to wait. Naturally, I wandered away from everyone and found myself alone in a hallway. Except I wasn't alone because there was an elderly man sitting on a bench. He just seemed…even then, that young, I knew he was broken in a way that wouldn't get fixed. I sat down next to him and he looked at me for a while before he told me I reminded him of his grandson, or at least the boy his grandson could have been. Because he didn't have one anymore. The man's son had been buying awful draughts from a bad, bad wizard for a long time, and when the son couldn't pay for them anymore, the bad, bad wizard set fire to the house they all lived in. The old man had just finished collecting what was left of the house: A silver fork and a set of Gobstones. Everything and everyone else in that house was gone. I ran back to the office as soon as he stopped talking. Lily had been throwing a tantrum. None of you had even noticed I was gone."

"Why did you never say anything to me?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Because I don't tell you guys anything," James replied, equally quiet, his words laced with hints of shame and resentment. "Remember?"

"Y-You shouldn't have had to hear that story," Ginny told him, barely able to comprehend it now. She could only imagine what it must have sounded like to such a small boy.

"Maybe, but I did," he shrugged. "And as soon as I did, deep down in that part of me that knew right from wrong, I knew that I wanted to make sure that no one else had stories like that ever again." He faced his father again. "You can deny my application if you want. I'll just apply somewhere else: France, Italy, Spain, maybe I'll even go abroad to the States. I'll change my name and I'll change my face around if I have to in order to escape the reach of your influence. With or without you, I am going to do this." On that, he headed out into the hallway.

Ginny wasn't letting him get the last word in. He hadn't earned that right yet, and even if he had, she had given him life. She was the mother and that gave her rights to all the last words she wanted.

"Did you hear yourself at all in there?" She followed him into his messy bedroom, blocking his escape through the doorway. "Do you know what I heard?"

"Obviously not what I wanted you to, otherwise you'd be wishing me luck and success in pursuit of my chosen career."

"I. Me. My. Mine. That's what's I heard just now from you. These past few weeks, absolutely nothing's changed. You refuse to accept any of your responsibilities. What you want comes first and damn anyone else's feelings in the process."

"That's a load of rubbish, Mum!" He paced back and forth in front of her, searching through various clothes piles for something. "I'm doing what you've been telling me to do, getting my life in order and getting ready for the future. That includes getting a job. Or is Kerri supposed to just support the baby on nothing but her own wages?"

"There's ways to do that that don't involve this risk to your life." She shook her head at him in wonder. "You still don't get it."

"Oh, please enlighten me."

"All the sacrifices you'll have to make now that you're a parent. As we've been trying to explain for you from the beginning, your life doesn't belong to you anymore. It belongs to your child and by extension your child's mother. You have to start putting their needs, the needs of other people, above what you want, son." Under her breath she muttered, "Not that you care what it would do to Kerri."

That brought James's hectic movements to an abrupt stop as he turned back to his mother.

"Something you want to share, Mum?" James asked her pointedly.

Under the weight of his accusatory glare, she resisted the urge to wilt with guilt over bringing his personal life into the matter.

"Kerri's told me today that you don't seem as interested in her as you do the baby. She was confused about it, so she asked me what was going on."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you're under a great deal of stress with the hearing tomorrow and…and Sophie leaving like she did." His jaw tightened at the mention of her name, the flash of anguish in his eyes so intense that Ginny almost couldn't bear it. "All Kerri wants is to feel like you value her in this relationship and-"

"There's no relationship," James was quick to say. "T-There's nothing romantic going on between her and me."

"I know that," she assured him. "So does Kerri, but you are in a relationship with her. She'll always be the mother of your firstborn and you'll always be a part of each other's lives. There's nothing wrong with being friends with her or even someday-"

"It won't happen, Mum," he insisted again. "Let it go."

She was curious as to why he was so adamant about that point, but it took a backseat to her more pressing concerns.

"I'm just saying that whatever career you choose—especially if it involves one where your life is on the line—Kerri should have a say in it, or at the very least be told what you're planning. Which, by the way, will never happen."

"I'm going to be an Auror," he said, going back to his search. "If it takes me a year or five or ten, it's going to happen. If I have to go halfway across the world to find a country that will take me, so be it. There's nothing you or Dad can do to stop me."

"You are **not-**"

"And I'll work things out with Kerri and the baby. Don't go nosing into her personal business anymore. It's not your place. You're my mother, not hers."

"You've had the luxury of me your entire life," she ground out, appalled at his behavior, "while that poor girl has never had anyone to rely on except herself."

"So you're saying-"

"That there will be times I'm going to take her side over yours. Get used to it."

"Duly noted." Having found the jacket he was looking for, he slipped it on and brushed past her, down the stairs as she tried to keep up with him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"This might be the last night I get to spend in Hastom," he said without looking at her. "If it is, I'm going to spend it in the places I actually want to be. Hint: This house, with the two of you in it, acting this way, is not one of them!"

"Don't you dare think-" Her warning did nothing to stop him from opening the front door and running out it. "JAMES SIRIUS POTTER! GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!" By the time she remembered her wand tucked into her back pocket and had reached the open door to aim it at him, he was already out of sight, hidden among the protection of the trees. "JAMIE!"

Nothing answered her cry except the night wind and she slammed her hand against the door jam in frustration.

_He couldn't have gotten my penchant dancing or my love for carrots? _Ginny thought bitterly to herself, opening and closing her aching hand. _No, he had to get the stubbornness._

It would do James no good, she vowed, shutting the door firmly and walking back upstairs to her husband. That dogged need that told him he was right above everyone else's opinions had come from a source of determination far stronger than him:

Ginevra Molly Potter.

With Harry beside her, they'd lecture and scream and bribe their boy into submission to their will; they'd lock him in his room, bind him to a chair, and handcuff themselves to his sides if need be to keep him from becoming an Auror. She had lost too many fingernails and heartbeats when Harry was a field operative in the thick of danger to sit on the sidelines as her son willingly did the same.

_He's __**not**__ doing this._

Entering the study again, she found Harry sitting behind his desk, staring out his small window away from her.

"He's left," she told him. "We need to go find him."

Harry swiveled around to her, the tiny wrinkles and age lines on his face seeming deeper and more pronounced in the shadow of his desolation.

"Does he have his wand?"

"No, but-"

"Any money?"

"Not that I saw."

"Did he have a bag with him?"

"Just his jacket."

"Then he'll be fine. He won't leave the borders of the village, not tonight. Not with what he's facing tomorrow."

"What makes you so sure-?"

"I know my son, Luv," he simply said, such certainty in his voice it made Ginny a bit jealous.

Did he really? She wanted badly to ask him. Because if he really did know their son, she'd very much like him to tell her about this James that she was still desperately trying to understand. This new James walked, talked, and at times even acted like her baby at times. Yet there were other times when he vanished, sometimes mid-conversation, and a person stood in his place whom Ginny didn't recognize; someone she was ill prepared for and did things she didn't expect him to do. He twisted Ginny's mind with his appearance and brought such doubt into her thoughts and actions.

How was she supposed to save her son if she didn't know who he was anymore?

Harry read the suffering on her face as something else other than her internal confusion. He went to her and put both hands on her shoulders.

"If we haven't heard from James by sun up," he said, "we'll go looking for him together."

She nodded jerkily, her eyes catching the folders on the desk. Her secondary goal for coming to her husband presented itself and she looked up at him.

"Did you find the application you needed to get rid of?"

"Yes." Harry's fingers on her body flexed and he glanced away from her. "I found his application."

"Good." She took his hands off her and kissed them briefly before walking to the fireplace, using her wand to bring the flames to life. "We should probably burn it instead of putting it out with the rubbish. I wouldn't put it past him to dig through the bins and resubmit it somewhere else."

"He is tenacious like that."

"Don't remind me." Sticking her hand out, she motioned for Harry. "Give it here please." When she felt no weight in her hand, she peeked back to find Harry standing still by the desk. "What's wrong?"

He swallowed and let out a long breath before speaking.

"I think," he said deliberately, "that we need to talk about this?"

"Talk about what?"

"Maybe James was right. Maybe we did react too rashly and if we-"

"Harry," she cut him off. "Give me the file."

"He's of age now, Gin. Even if I feasibly could contact every single department in the world to prevent him from…" His words trailed to a halt under the fierce gaze she was leveling at him.

Ginny reminded herself that the man in front of her was her husband and the love of her life. "I understand," she began, keeping her voice low, "that you might feel irrationally guilty about denying him something he seems to want; but this is the safety of our son we're talking about. I will not let something as petty as your guilt stand in the way of James's protection. So give me that file." Her eyes darkened even more at his hesitation. "Now."

Harry took a few beats to consider his options before deciding. "You have to promise me something."

"What?"

"That you'll look at it first before you throw it in the fire."

"Fine," she agreed immediately. Anything to get her hands on the blasted thing.

Carefully, Harry edged back to his desk and bent to wave his hand over one of the bottom drawers. It opened with a click and from it he pulled out a gray folder similar to the ones strewn on his desk.

"Just look at the cover," he said, slowly handing over the file. "To be specific, look at the receiving date."

Snatching it from him, she skimmed over the Ministry seal and the fine print of the alias James had used to find the date. It had arrived on Harry's desk at work four days ago.

"What does this mean?"

Keeping the folder in her hands, he opened it to the front page. Before her eyes drifted down, he met them.

"I didn't know," he promised. "I swear I didn't know it was him."

Lips trembling, she looked down again to see at the bottom of a page filled with things like the applicant's personal information were two boxes with the words QUALIFIED or NOT QUALIFIED.

The box checked on the application of Albert Jamison was the one for QUALIFIED.

"How could you?" Ginny asked her husband, staring in horror at checkmark. "You…You told him less than thirty minutes ago that you wouldn't and then you…" Harry's finger pointed down at the very bottom of the page. Under the boxes, the signature of the department head was required. Harry's familiar scrawl was there, along with something else:

The same date as the one on the date of arrival for the application.

_What on…How did this…I don't…_

"I've never approved an applicant this early," she heard him say. "I've been handpicking the applicants since I was put in charge and never in all those years have I ever picked an applicant so quickly, especially one without his N.E.W.T.s. According to this," he tapped the folder, "Albert Jamison had to leave school early because of family obligations, which I suppose isn't a lie. He had nearly perfect recommendations from his teachers, though, and his essay…it was almost word for word the story he told us tonight, but there was so much more in there, Ginny. He has the passion and the wherewithal for this job. Everything he wrote screams it from the page. He's not doing this on a whim or to rub anything in our faces. He wants to be an Auror."

"He's not…His schooling. He hasn't even finished school yet." Ginny was grasping as reality closed in around her. "He can't be admitted for training until he's finished with school. That's at least three months away."

"Neither Ron or I graduated from Hogwarts. We were still allowed into the program." Gently, he eased the file from her nerveless fingers. "Something can be arranged while he-"

"No!" Harry simply closed his eyes at Ginny's exclamation. "This isn't happening! This isn't real…" She thought she spied a lifeline in Harry's earlier words and she reared up on him. "The recommendations! They're not real. They can't be because his teachers would've mentioned him or you in them. James forged the papers somehow."

"I thought that, too," Harry said. "A part of me wished he had done something that brazen. It'd be easier to end this thing if he had, but he didn't. I performed a thorough scan of the letters when you two went to his room to see if I could find any traces of magical manipulation. Other than the name, he didn't change anything. His teachers' endorsements are all professional and none of them mention me. He must have asked them not to so he could be approved on his merits."

"He's not approved!" Ginny insisted as Harry turned away from her. "He's not going to be an Auror! I won't let you-"

"Do you think I like this?!" Harry hissed at her, causing her to step back from him with wide eyes. With a growl, he swept everything off his desk with a wave of his arm, energy crackling in the air as papers and pens flew around them in whirlwind. "Do you think this is what I wanted for my son?!"

As the papers fell to the ground, so did Harry's anger. Bracing against the desk, he looked on at his wife helplessly.

"If you do this," she said, "you're willingly putting him in harm's way."

"Really? Gee, I hadn't thought of that." He chuckled grimly. "I understand the danger he's up against in the field far better than you ever could."

"Then how in your right mind can you think it's a good idea to set him on this course?"

"Because it's in his eyes," he tried to explain. "That need to right the world; I saw it there tonight. Maybe it's come about because of what's he's done, or maybe…maybe it's always been there and I just refused to see it. It's there, and if I deny him the chance to attempt to become an Auror, he'll really go and try somewhere else; somewhere that I won't be able to keep watch over him and his assignments."

"Harry," Ginny begged, shaking her head, "please. You have to…"

"If there was anything I could think of to say or do to dissuade him, you know I would in less than a heartbeat. There just isn't. This is his calling, and as much as it pains me as his father, I have to help him see if this is what he's meant for." He went to her, reaching up to cup her cheeks. "Luv, it's going to be-"

"Don't touch me," she said, backing away from his hands. "Don't you dare try to comfort me."

He acquiesced to her wants, but stayed in her personal space so there was no escaping him unless she moved away, which she couldn't, as her legs had no feeling in them. Nothing did, not after this blatant betrayal by the man who was supposed to always fight for and with her on everything.

Especially their children.

"If you told your mum you had been recruited by the Harpies only to have her try and forbid you from joining them, would it have stopped you?" Harry asked her. "Would anything have stopped you if you knew in your heart that it was right for you? That nothing else would ever make you as happy? It wouldn't have. I know you better than anyone, and nothing would have stopped you; maybe not even me and even though my stomach was in knots every time you went up in the air, just like yours was when I was out chasing criminals every day, we still gave each other the freedom to be ourselves because we loved each other."

_Stop it!_ Ginny screamed at him in her head, squeezing her eyes shut. _Stop making sense! You can't do this to me, Harry!_

"We never denied the other anything," he continued. "Just like your parents never denied you and your brothers your hearts' desires. Do you think your mum threw Bill a party when he told her he wanted to crawl through pyramids, breaking ancient curses and risking his limbs every day? Or that she just sent Charlie off to Romania with a sweater and a box of biscuits? James is not a boy anymore, Ginny, as much as we'd both rather it not be true. We need to give him the chance to go out and live his own life, even if that includes being an Auror."

"I-I-I can't."

"Why? Why not?"

The empty weight of nothing she had carried in her stomach for years pressed in until she felt it in her heart and she opened her eyes to her husband's.

"Because I can't lose another son," she told him.

The realization of what she had been so afraid of came over Harry's face and instead of relief that he understood her finally, all she felt was resentment.

He hadn't understood her because he hadn't thought of their fourth child. He never thought of that child anymore.

"If you wouldn't mind," she said, licking her dry lips, "I'd like to be alone tonight."

"Gin, don't-"

"I'll see you in the morning." She left him alone and slammed the door behind her.

Ginny was the mother. The last words belonged to her.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Apologies again for the long wait between chapters. Focus has been hard to come by in my life. As a bonus, you readers get a mega chapter. Thanks to Carolyn for the quick edit. Please read and review, if you would be so kind, and most importantly: Boston Strong!**_****_

* * *

_****_

Beep…Beep…Beep…

_**Ginny wanted nothing more than to pull the limp hospital pillow over her head to block out the sound of the charm monitoring her heart rate, or squeeze her eyes shut to shield them from the glow of the moonlight pressing down on her face; the noise and the light were both quite bothersome, but she couldn't.**_

_**She couldn't lift her arm. She couldn't close her eyes. She couldn't bring her baby back and put him where he belonged.**_

_**She was useless.**_

_**Glancing to her right, she saw Harry practically molded into a plastic chair, legs propped against the window sill, his feet wedged in between bouquets of somber-looking flowers in every shade of white imaginable. There were notes in all of them too, filled with different variations on the same sentiments:**_

"_**Our deepest sympathies go out to you…"**_

"_**You and your family are in our hearts…"**_

"_**The tragedy that has befallen you will in time…"**_

"_**I cannot imagine the depths of the loss you must be feeling…"**_

_**She turned from them, unable to look any longer at the accumulation of pity. Whoever it was that had written that card would be surprised to learn that Ginny wasn't feeling her loss at all. She wasn't feeling anything. **_

_**It wasn't for lack of trying. She wanted to feel something. Every part of her wanted to scream and rage out at the world still going on around her. Didn't it understand that life should stop right here and now? That every creature and every object should cease moving? That nothing else would ever matter again so what was the point of continuing on?**_

_**If she did that, if she gave into that harsh anger begging to be let out, she'd also have to open up her fragile heart to the grief of knowing her innocent baby boy, who had never known life outside her womb, would never be in her arms. She'd never know whose eyes he'd have had, what his favorite food would have been, or if he would have liked stuffed bears more than he would have liked stuffed lions. The agony of all those nevers was waiting in the wings behind her anger and if she gave into her rage, the pain was sure to follow it. **_

_**As much as she yearned to unshackle herself from the darkness slowly contaminating her, she yearned even more to avoid ever truly feeling the loss of her son. If that meant she could never feel anything ever again, maybe it was fair price. She was still undecided.**_

_**Someone knocked softly on the door. "Harry?" Nell's voice asked from the other side. "Are you still awake?"**_

_**Ginny didn't hear him stir from behind her. He had been with her at all times for the past four days, since…since the procedure had occurred, hovering over her and offering as much comfort as he could, but since his comfort did nothing more than to remind her of why she needed comfort, it had something of the opposite effect of Harry's intentions.**_

_**There were benefits to lacking feelings. It would cause her tremendous guilt later on to hate her husband. **_

_**Without hearing a response, Nell pushed open the door and entered, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder and a thermos in her free hand. Upon meeting Ginny's eyes, she tried to smile but gave up halfway. Sighing, she placed her things on the floor and sat at Ginny's bedside.**_

"_**I wish we could get you to consent to taking something so you could sleep more than an hour or two at a time," she told Ginny. "Your recovery will take longer if your body can't get any rest. The sooner you get yourself out of here, the sooner you can go home and see the kids."**_

_**Kids. Ginny knew she had three of them waiting for her. The last time she had seen them—maybe a little over a week ago—Jamie and Albus had been excited about the weather being warm enough to forego mittens, and Lily had been making it on her own to the loo, sometimes even before she had an accident. Her mind wanted those images, those happy faces to stay with her longer than a few fleeting moments, but every time she tried to focus on them, the fourth face that she'd never know chased them away.**_

"_**I brought some things for you both: fresh clothes, your old quilt, and good soap, not the rubbish they have here. Oh, and I ran into your mum downstairs," Nell continued, reaching down to get something from her bag. From it, she pulled out a moving photograph that she placed on the bedside table. Ginny's heart lurched at the sight of her children waving and smiling back at her, ice cream smeared around their lips. "She said they were having a lot of fun at the Burrow with Grannie and Grampa, but that they miss home and they miss you and Harry. They need you, Ginny, and you need them now even more. There's no spell or potion in the world that will help you heal faster than being loved by your children."**_

_**So now, in addition to obstetrics, Nell was an expert in the grieving processes of mothers who had just lost their children; which was funny considering how she had absolutely no practical experience on the matter. And even if she had been an authority in the field, given how she had handled the last subject she had been an "expert" in, Ginny wasn't inclined to listen to her opinion now.**_

_**She had put the most precious thing in the world to her, the life of one of her children, in Nell's hands and her friend had failed her. They all had. All the healers, and her family, and even Harry; she had told them over and over again that something about this last pregnancy had felt wrong, but none of them had believed her until it was too late.**_

_**Why hadn't they listened? Why hadn't she made them listen? And why had her best friend, who as her healer was supposed to be the one person she could trust with her health and well-being, insisted on disregarding Ginny's expressed wishes?**_

_**Maybe feeling wouldn't be as terrible as she imagined it to be if it let her tell Nell what she really thought of her at this time.**_

_**The volatile rage in Ginny's eyes must not have been as potent as she imagined because Nell kept on talking. "I doubt you'll ever go through anything harder than this. You must…You must feel terribly alone right now, but you're not, sweetie. We're all here for you and we'll do whatever you need us to so you can move on." Nell's soft hand ran through Ginny's messy, sweaty locks. Ginny tried not to let herself feel any relief from the gesture. "If you want to start flinging spells at us, go ahead. If you want to scream at us until our eardrums bleed, feel free. If you want to scratch our faces until you hit bone, by all means go ahead. Just do something, anything besides lie in this bed and imagine what could have been. It'll destroy you. It'll destroy Harry. Most of all, though," she prompted Ginny's chin until Ginny was looking back at her children, "it'll destroy them. You have fought for this family since the day I met you and even if it's the last thing you want to do, you have to keep fighting. It's who you are. Don't let that spirit be taken from you along…along with what you've already lost."**_

_**She wished that Nell's words had missed their mark; that they hadn't touched that one place inside her that still had enough strength to want to keep going, if for no other reason than because she didn't want Nell to be the one to break the spell she had forced herself under to survive the past two days. There was a voice inside her head, a bitter vicious voice that demanded something in return for the life that had been lost to Ginny. It wanted to hurt Nell, Harry, and everyone else she'd ever come in contact with. To listen to that voice, however much satisfaction she'd receive for a moment, would ultimately be her undoing because three of the people she'd end up hurting would be her children.**_

_**She couldn't hurt them, not ever. The strongest part of her heart was still and would always be the mothering part of it. If protecting her remaining children meant swallowing down damming amounts of hurt and bitterness until she could remember to love the people around her who had helped to put her in this bed to begin with, she'd find a way to do it. Her suffering and her grief would belong to only her. If she had to will herself back to it through nothing more than sheer determination, she'd find normalcy once more.**_

_**For James, Albus, and Lily, she could find the strength to press onward.**_

_**Ginny turned her eyes from the picture to her friend's weary face. A spark of hope flared in Nell's eyes and Ginny had to open her mouth very slowly to control the words she let out of it.**_

"_**I-I'd like to go to sleep," she whispered. An escape, even a temporary one, was what she craved now. "I'd like a Sleeping Draught, please."**_

_**The victory she had won was clear on Nell's features and Ginny clamped down on her jaw. "Okay," Nell said. "That's a start. I'll have one brewed for you. It'll let you sleep for the rest of the night. Sound alright?"**_

_**Yes, it did. A whole night unencumbered by thought or interaction with others sounded perfectly alright. **_

_**Ginny simply nodded and tried not to flinch when Nell patted her shoulder. She shut her eyes and waited for her oblivion to arrive…**_

* * *

"Ginny? Ginny, you have to wake up now."

"Why?" she mumbled into her soft pillow, trying to swat away the hand on her back. "You just said I needed to sleep, Nell."

A pause and then, "It's Harry, luv. I think you were dreaming."

Her eyes snapped open and she shot up from the bed to lean back against the headboard, her blood pumping as she struggled to find her way back from where her dreams had sent her.

Harry knelt down beside the bed on the floor, concerned eyes lingering over her face. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"I don't know," she lied. Her hands rested on the covers, warm from the autumn sun streaming in, and she noticed one side was much smoother than the other. "I slept alone."

"Yeah, you did."

_Why did I…? Did something happen? Is James-?_

"James wants to be an Auror," she remembered out loud.

"Yes, he does," Harry sighed.

"He and I…We fought. He left the house in a huff."

"He did."

"I'm mad at you." She raised an eyebrow at her husband. "Am I right?"

"I was hoping you'd forget that bit about me being in trouble."

"Well, I didn't and you are. Loads of it. If you think I will just let you two make me the bad guy in all this, then-"

He held up a hand to stop her before she really picked up steam. "Can we not do this until later today? We have something more important to handle first." He handed her a piece of parchment. "Sapien sent that this morning. He wants the two of us to meet him at his house at ten-thirty today to discuss James's hearing."

"What does he want to talk about?" Ginny unfurled the parchment and read over the words from the village's enigmatic leader. "Did James come home? Where is he?"

"Um, I have no idea, no he didn't, and he Flooed and said he was eating breakfast at the Green Swallow," Harry listed off his fingers.

Ginny groaned, exhausted even though her day hadn't even begun, her stomach rebelling already at the thought of all the anxiety it would have to live through as her son's citizenship and honor was questioned and judged by all around them in the coming hours.

"What time is it now?" she asked, laying down and getting ready to fall back asleep.

"Quarter of ten."

Ginny sprang straight up again before her back was even flat. She glared sharply at her husband but since she lacked the time to give him a proper lashing, she settled for climbing off the bed and brushing him aside as she marched into the bathroom, slamming the door shut without a backward glance.

The shower beckoned to her, welcoming her into a place filled with warmth. Once inside, Ginny laid her head against the tiles, willing her rolling stomach into submission as the water soaked her body and helped her to combat the chill of a time that had changed her immeasurably.

It had taken endless weeks to recover from the emotional trauma of losing her baby. The children had been her greatest sources of comfort, but it had been talking with her mother, who had lost two pregnancies of her own, that had helped Ginny to accept her grief. It never left her, though, as Harry or Nell may have imagined over the years. She simply grew strong enough to be able to carry it with her as the years passed.

With the prospect of welcoming a baby into their family once again, Ginny couldn't help but to remember all of those agonies and all of the anger she had pushed down as deep into herself as she possibly could so it wouldn't destroy what remained good in her life.

So immersed was she in her solitude that she jumped when she heard the door open and shut.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Harry asked

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?" Ginny called out to him, ignoring his question. Over the sound of the rushing water, she heard him puttering around the large room. "You know how important this is to all of us, especially James."

"I tried," Harry explained. "You were dead asleep. I heard you tossing and turning all night."

So he had checked on her, even after she kicked him out of their bedroom. Despite the piece of her that warmed at his devotion, she spit out, "Sorry to be such a bother to you."

"You're my wife. You cause me headaches more often than I care to admit, but you never are one." The shower curtain opened and closed, sending a blast of cool air up Ginny's spine as Harry stepped in behind her. "Understand?"

"I told you that I wanted to be alone."

"That was last night. Now it's morning."

"Harry-"

"Marriage is about equality, about the give and take." His calloused, wet hands ran up and down her arms, pulling her gently against his bare chest. Her mind wanted to resist, but her tense muscles and heart said otherwise. With a sigh, she made no move to fight him. "You wanted to be alone after a difficult night and I let you have that. Now, on this much more difficult morning, I'd like nothing more than a few moments of peace with you." His chin rested on her shoulder and his lips danced across the underside of her jaw. "I know…I know that I have the sensitivity of a dung beetle's arse sometimes and that I should have realized last night why you were so resistant to James being in harm's way. I just…" He was silent for a long time, breathing warmly against her skin. "I'm sorry, luv. I don't have the right words. I've never had the right words for what happened, but please don't hate me for that. Please just let me have this with you."

She never felt more loved, more cherished then when her husband took her into his embrace. Even with nearly twenty years of marriage under their belts, it still occasionally took one of them giving up and reaching out for the other to break the spell of a stubborn battle. Outside his arms, her anger towards him seemed justified, righteous even. Inside them, though, it felt nothing except petty and foolish.

Harry was her partner in all things in this life that they had chosen. She depended on him to see things clearly when her mind was too focused to see things as they truly were, just as he depended on her to do the same for him. He always managed to pull her in before her mind and her temper created a hailstorm of destruction on any given situation.

Wasn't it possible, given everything she had been through with losing her last child prematurely to now becoming something of a spectator in her eldest son's life, that her viewpoint was too skewed to be meaningful and productive?

Letting the water wash down over her and Harry, the idea that she could be seeing things through veiled eyes took root. It didn't negate her frustrations over the matter of James being an Auror, or her continued disappointment in Harry's seemingly easy ability to pretend their last child had never been, but it did help her realize that being at war with the one person she needed to weather the coming trials would do nothing to solve anything.

Ginny leaned back into Harry, snuggling into his embrace as he squeezed both arms across her.

"I love you," she said quietly. "I'm sorry I pushed you away last night."

"It's okay." The kisses he pressed against her shoulder promised only tenderness, not passion, which she had little desire for at the moment. "Sometimes a good, long brood can do wonders."

"Jamie just doesn't know what he's doing. I know he says he does, but he's only a teenager. He has no clue of what the world is really like."

"Of course he doesn't. And he never, ever will unless we let him go experience it." Releasing her to grab the shampoo bottle, he squeezed a dollop in his hand before he began working the soapy mixture through Ginny's hair. She bit back a groan of relief as he continued, "It would feel so much better to lock all three of our kids into a room with padded walls and fluffy pillows; a place where they'd never know hurt or pain and we'd say it's for their own good, but that would only ease our minds at their expense. We can't deprive them of all the amazing things out there in the world just because we're afraid of the bad that could touch them along the way."

"Just even thinking of James alone in an alleyway, his wand raised up while three wizards are hiding in the shadows, trapping him…" er eyes squeezed shut and she tried to concentrate on the mS

Her eyes squeezed shut and she tried to keep her focus on Harry's hands massaging her scalp. "It doesn't seem selfish of me when I think of it in those terms."

"No, not at all. He was right, though. There's danger in any job out there, especially in our world. And given that he's my son, there's always going to be a small faction of lunatics out there that would like to see him in mortal peril."

"Don't say things like that around me. I am only very cautiously getting myself ready to be on the fence about this whole idea." Ginny turned and let the suds wash out of her locks, reaching up to help the bubbles along. When she was done, she twined her arms around Harry's neck. "We fought those lunatics once to be free, truly and properly free. I suppose I would choke on my own hypocrisy if I denied my son his freedom to choose. Even if his choice is ridiculously stupid, just like his father."

Harry kissed the tip of her nose. "Where do you think he gets it from?"

"You can't let him get away with anything," Ginny ordered seriously. "He can't take any shortcuts in his training."

"He won't. I promise."

"All of the trainers have to be crystal clear on that. They can't let him slide by just because he's the boss's boy."

"They'll be instructed thusly."

"It's only going to be a disservice to James if he doesn't get the same treatment as everyone else. The other recruits in his class will resent him if they think the trainers are playing favorites. That'll create division when there needs to be camaraderie."

"I understand that."

"He needs to be prepared for everything. He needs to be trained, and drilled, and broken down, and built back up, and then you need to start it all over again. It's the only way he'll be ready, absolutely ready for what he'll have to face in the field."

"Ginevra," he said, the right side of his mouth quirking up, "I've actually trained about a hundred or so recruits in my twelve years as head of the department, you know."

"Yes, but none of them have been our child."

His smile faded as her statement hit him and he leaned his forehead against hers. "You're never going to be okay with this, are you?"

"And you are?" she challenged him.

"Of course not." The water was beginning to cool, but neither of them moved. They were warm enough already and neither were eager to face a world that consisted of more than each other. "My heart is going to be outside my body every time he goes out on assignment. He just…He needs our support right now more than he needs our approval."

_All that sage wisdom my husband can spit out on a dime; must have been all those years spent with Dumbledore._

She smiled a little at her own joke and tilted her head until she was looking into the emerald eyes that had anchored her for more than half her life. "Promise me something, Harry."

"Anything."

"Well, Christmas will be here before we know it and I think I know what I want you to give me."

"What's that?"

"A room with padded walls and fluffy pillows." She shrugged her shoulders, wishing the idea didn't have as much merit as she thought it did. "We can put Al and Lily's presents in it and trap them inside."

Harry pretended to think for a moment.

"Only if," he finally said, "you actually read the book Hermione's going to get you this year instead of putting it in the closet under all your knitting projects that ended in disaster."

"No," she said immediately.

"Duly noted. I'll officially take your request under advisement."

"Thank you." She pulled him down for a lingering kiss, hoping to avoid the inevitable for just a little while longer.

Eventually, as it was destined to, the water became cold enough to penetrate their little bubble and they left the shower to dress for their meeting with Sapien. Harry raised his eyebrows as he watched her change into a pair of dark pantyhose, her black pencil skirt and conservative beige silk blouse on the bed next to her.

"What?" she asked him.

"I said nothing. No words came from my lips."

"They came from your eyes." Her cheeks reddened slightly. "I can dress like a grown-up. I am one, after all."

"Believe me, I know that."

"It doesn't always have to be bright colors and flowing peasant skirts with me. I have boring clothes, same as you."

"Yeah, but those are for work or for functions out there," Harry gestured at the window. "That's not how we dress in Hastom. We're more relaxed here, more ourselves."

"I just want to give James every advantage today that we can," she tried to explain. She rubbed her hands along the skirt as she slipped it on, wiping the sweat from her palms. "If they see that we're taking this seriously, then maybe…I don't know." She waved her hands up and down her body. "I can control all this, but not what they're going to do to him today. Does that make any sense?"

Harry looked down at the dark blue sweater in his hands before he nodded. "Of course it does." Going to the closet, he pulled out one of his stiff button down shirts and slipped it on. When they were both almost dressed, Ginny in her sharp business attire and Harry in his best dinner suit, he walked over to her with his tie and a sheepish smile. "Lend me a couple of hands?"

Her eyes rolled as she took the navy tie the kids had given him last Father's Day.

"I have it on good authority," she said as she wound the fabric around his neck and proceeded to knot it, "that you are capable of doing this by yourself."

"Well stop smelling so nice and I'll stop wanting to stand as close to you as possible." He let his hand settle on her hips as he waited patiently for her to finish the most normal of marriage rituals. "So there was another letter of interest this morning, along with Sapien's."

"From who?"

"Your mum. She's, uh, holding a big family lunch for the whole family at the Burrow."

"What's the occasion?" He opened his mouth to answer, but with the force of a slap in the face, she immediately remembered what else today's date meant in their family. "Sebastian's birthday!"

"Look at that. Didn't even need to give you a hint."

"I am absolutely losing it. I cannot believe I forgot that Teddy and Victoire's firstborn is turning one today."

"Which means he won't be able to remember the slight, and he'll be happy with a rolled up sock for a present." He looked down at her while she focused on her task. "I think we should go."

Finally finished with his tie, she rested her hands on his chest. "Harry…"

"They're our family. I know why we kept our distance: we could barely get a handle on the last few weeks with just the two of us, let alone with trying to explain it all to two dozen other people, but it's not that way anymore. However this day ends, whether we're celebrating or commiserating, I want to do it with them. Don't you?"

Ginny let his words fill her head. He made a valid point; he usually did. What he wanted, though, was in the future and as much as she wished to see her family, ached to see the whole loud brood of them really, for Ginny there was no future beyond James's hearing.

"I'm not saying no," she said, "but I'm not saying yes either. Let's wait until…after."

"After then," Harry agreed with a kiss to the crown of her head.

Moments later, as ready as they ever would be, they walked hand and hand from their home through the wooded path that led them into the village, silent as their own thoughts whirled around too fast in their heads to share them with anyone else. The day itself was bright and cheerful, the leaves on the trees only beginning their autumn journey to the ground, and only the faintest flutter of a breeze nipping at their cheeks.

_It's a good sign_, Ginny told herself as they reached the outskirts of Hastom. _The hearing is going to go well and James will be allowed to stay. This weather proves it. A day like this only foretells good things to come. _

Or it was yet another in series of never-ending taunts the universe was hurling at her lately.

Harry felt the tension in her hand and squeezed it tighter. She wished she could smile at him in return.

Their walk to Sapien's home took them through the main square of the village, with throngs of people selling their goods and shoppers meandering about. Ginny could feel every eye that cast a glance her way, each one leaving a brush of anxiety across the back of her neck. There was no hatred or outright contempt from any one; in fact, many of her fellow citizens offered her a kind smile or a nod of support. Behind all of their compassion, though, she felt their single inescapable question echo in her ears:

"_How could they not know what their own son was doing all this time?"_

She'd never be able to answer it. She'd never truly understand why James had followed the path he had, and she knew she'd spend many years to come always wondering what kind of life he could have had. One of those could haves might even begin today; in mere hours, James could be told to leave Hastom forever by these people that she was walking past on the cobble-stoned streets all her children had spent their childhoods running on.

It was in this state of self-doubt that they walked by the huge decorated window of Beaglebee's Toy Shop and an old memory resurfaced, one Ginny had long forgotten, of James's early years:

To help him gain control over his abilities as an Almet, both she and Harry had encouraged him to always try new morphs and faces as a challenge. This usually proved to be something that could occupy James for hours, especially as a toddler, until one day he took the challenge to new lengths.

During a hot summer day, when Ginny had been counting down the minutes until Al would vacate her body and leave her bladder in peace again, she had taken James into the square for some shopping with Nell. While Ginny negotiated a fair price for a batch of newt livers and Nell was attending to a fussing Sophie, James had wandered away from them. It was a good five minutes until Ginny noticed he was missing and while she didn't fear any danger for him from anyone within the safety of Hastom, she knew the trouble he could get into on his own. Maneuvering her hulking frame through the open market space, she frantically searched under carts and stalls for her son.

"James!" Ginny had called out over the noisy crowd. "James Potter, Mummy wants you to come out this instant!"

No little boys answered her and her heart pounded to a frenzied rhythm as five minutes became nine without any sign of her son.

By then, Nell was mobilizing the locals into a more organized search and Ginny, out of breath, leaned against a storefront for support, her eyes roving the crowd for anyone under four feet wearing plaid shorts and a Harpies t-shirt.

"Jamie, where are you?" she had said out loud, huffing with exertion and worry.

A loud knocking on the window next to her made Ginny cry out in fright, throwing her hand over her mouth. When she finally regained her wits, she turned and was stunned to see the beaming face of an enormous brown stuffed dog grinning back at her from the display.

"Hi Mummy!" the dog exclaimed, waving a paw at her.

Her eyes widened to saucers as she began to recognize the brown eyes staring back at her as those of James. The boy had sprouted brown fuzz all over his body, floppy ears, even a button-nose like the other stuffed dogs around him in the colorful backyard display. Shock kept her rooted to the spot as he scooted closer to her on all fours.

"Look Mummy! I's is like Fang! I's a doggy!" He started panting and yapping while he shook his long ears until they were slapping his cheeks lightly.

The little grin on his face was infectious and despite the terror that had so quickly taken hold of her at his disappearance, it vanished even faster as she watched her three year old put on a show for her. Laughing with her whole aching body, laughing as tears of relief welled in her eyes, she stepped up to the window until her nose was pressed against it, laying a hand on the glass over where James head was.

"Hi baby," she had said to him. He put his own face opposite hers and she nuzzled her nose to his through the barrier.

It was a wonderful memory of a wonderful time in her life and with every step she took, Ginny realized more than ever how blessed she had always been to be able to have spent so many years of her life with a boy who turned into a toy dog just because he felt like it; who would sit in the tub with an umbrella over his head and the shower running because he said he liked the sound of raindrops; who would hide his little sister's favorite dolly for hours, then turn around and sneak her an extra chocolate biscuit or two from the jar after dinner; who shouted strange and silly things at people whenever he went off to school; who was brash, and fiery, and always jumped into the water without looking; and who had been in the epicenter of Ginny's world since he had made a potion turn blue over eighteen years ago.

Ginny kept her chin straight out, her face becoming a mask of pride and defiance for all to see. Hastom could say what they wanted to about her fitness as a parent, her general sanity, and her James. He was her son. That was all he would ever need to be for Ginny to give him all the chances he needed to make his amends.

* * *

Sapien's stone cottage was barely large enough for the four rooms it encompassed. When no one answered the front door, the Potters walked around back to the expansive yard; the enormous greenhouse that sheltered some of the most delicate fauna in the world positively gleamed in the sunlight. They found the village elder sitting at an aging wicker table, sharing a cup of tea with a familiar guest.

"Hey," James said to his parents, looking older than any teenager should as he sat slumped forward in his chair with a plate with two picked apart muffins in front of him on his plate.

There was no hesitation on Ginny's part. She walked straight over to her son and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight.

"I'm sorry I yelled," she said into messy hair.

"I'm sorry I ran away." He leaned back from his mother after a moment, his fingers digging away at a stray bit of wood from the table. "Look, about training and everything-"

"We'll talk about it later. It can wait until after," Ginny assured him as Sapien picked up his cane from the ground and stood to greet her and Harry. She pressed back a bit on his shoulders. "Don't slouch."

Even hunched slightly as he leaned on his cane for extra support, Sapien Stellner was still the tallest man Ginny had ever encountered who was not part giant. His billowing white hair matched the robes that hung from him majestically, as if they knew both the wisdom and the touch of the Seer he held. He held out his hand to Ginny in welcome.

"It is a pleasure to see you this day, Citizen Potter. Thank you both for coming to my home."

"Thank you for having us but," Harry glanced apprehensively between Sapien and their son, "what are we here for? James's hearing isn't until later in the afternoon."

"Has something changed?" Ginny asked worriedly. "Was there a notice we didn't receive or-?"

"No, no. As of right now, the formal hearing is still scheduled for three o'clock."

Immediately, Ginny's senses were on high alert.

"'As of right now?'" she repeated. "As in there's a possibility of there not being a hearing at all today or…or ever?"

"All things are possible," Sapien replied in his cryptic manner, "if the right situations allow them to be."

"Sir, could we just tell them, please?" James asked from his seat. He kept his eyes on the ruined food rather than anyone else. "I'd rather like to get this over with."

"Yes, I know you would. However, all the necessary parties are not present."

"Fine," he sighed, slumping forward again, his face falling into his hands.

"James, don't-"

Instead, Sapien stepped forward to put a hand on the teenager's shoulder, clasping it reassuringly.

"He is quite tired," Sapien explained to Harry and Ginny. "He has been here most of the night in my company, seeking my advice and counsel."

Ginny did her best to keep her tongue in check. It was positively itching to ask questions, but from experience she knew Sapien would not answer them and based solely on his appearance, James did not want to answer them. She was not known to be a patient creature, though, and just as she began to open her mouth, she caught a glimpse of her husband's eyes widening as he saw something off to the distance. Turning to look at what was vexing him, she saw who was joining them and uttered out loud the only thing that came to her:

"Fuck me."

James's head instantly perked up. "Did she just say-?"

"Shh!" Harry said to him, keeping a hand tight around his wife's wrist. "Not now."

Ginny was grateful for his touch, even if she couldn't verbalize it from her dry mouth, for Harry's hand was the only thing keeping her not just from flying off the handle, but from plummeting off it into a spectacular crash.

Walking towards them as almost a single unit with their arms looped together were Bart and Nell Nixon, two of the Potters' dearest friends for eighteen years, minus these last few critical weeks. Their attire was far more casual than Harry and Ginny's; the only thing of note was Nell's decision to wear black from the kerchief tied behind her head to the sandals on her feet. Whether she was mourning a friendship, a pair of daughters, or even just some last semblance of innocence lost, Ginny wasn't sure, but whatever it was she understood.

There many things she could fault Nell for these days. Grief was not one of them.

Both Nixons stopped short at the gate, thirty feet or so from the rest of the group, scanning over the other faces in a mixture of bewilderment, guilt, and suspicion until they landed on James as he rose up slowly behind his parents. Instantly their faces hardened, Nell's to the point where anything thrown at it might break in half if it hit.

Unconsciously, Ginny moved in front of her son, pulling Harry with her.

_No chances_, she ordered herself. _Keep your guard up until…_

Until what? Until she knew the person who had helped deliver James wouldn't kill him? Until she knew both of these people who had watched James grow up didn't have their wands hidden and ready? Until everything was as it should be again?

She was quite eager to know when that would be.

Seemingly unaware (when all present knew how perfectly aware he was) of the awkwardness, Sapien motioned for Bart and Nell to come further into the group.

"Welcome to both of you," he told them. "I thank you for coming so promptly."

Bart's face unlocked first and with great effort, he tore his gaze from James to address Sapien.

"It was no problem. You, uh, were a little misleading when you said who else would be here."

"No, I was not. If you were to reread the letter I sent you this morning, it simply asked you and your wife to join me here at my home to discuss an important matter."

"We assumed it would be just us."

"Then the fault lies with you. Now as we all know," Sapien continued, "the citizenship of Citizen James Potter is at stake this evening, based on an inquiry from Citizen Nell Nixon." Ginny stiffened at the name, but kept her eyes resolutely on the other woman. "Should the village find sufficient cause to expel him, he would be asked to leave Hastom forever. This is a drastic form of punishment that has been rarely handed down in the entire history of our community. It is my sincere hope that we can settle this matter together, being that the wronged parties are here to-"

"Excuse me, sir?" Ginny's very insides shook as James purposefully stepped forward, moving to stand in between the space of his parents and godparents. With his back to her and his black hair sticking out from all the nervous hand-running through it, if she squinted her eyes he was his father all those years ago, standing tall and proud even in fear. "I'd like to say something, please."

"Of course," Sapien said, obligingly moving aside as James looked directly at Bart and Nell. There were only a few feet between them, yet it was so much more that Ginny could taste it in the air; all the years they had spent with each other were at stake with whatever James would say. Bart's eyes were cold as they took in the young man before him, but Nell's were so much worse as they stubbornly refused to move from the ground.

James's eyes moved. They moved back and forth between his surrogate parents, then up to the sky, to Sapien, and then (with the barest hint of desperation) to his own parents before he finally settled on Nell and Bart as he started speaking.

"I never meant to hurt her. Hurt Sophie, I mean." Bart's jaw twitched at his girl's name but he kept silent. "I did, though. I was horrible to her, and whatever perverse justifications I made up to live with myself won't matter to you. They shouldn't. I love her very, very much, hard as that is to believe, and by doing that, by letting her love me that much when I wasn't ready to accept it, I broke your daughter's heart. You're…You're angry with me. You'd probably rip my head off if my mum and dad weren't here right now. I get that completely," he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small square of paper, "because of this. It's my kid."

Ginny frowned in confusion. "Did he just say-?"

"Shh!" Harry said again, softer this time as they both remained fixated on their son. "Not now."

"My, uh, my…well her name is Kerri. She's the one I…you know. They gave this picture to her when she had her first scan and she gave it to me when I first went to discuss the baby with her. Since then, every morning when I wake up and every night before I fall asleep, I look at this picture. Even when nothing else I'm doing or trying to do makes any semblance of sense," he tapped the picture in his hand, "this does. For what I've put Sophie and your whole family through, I'll never forgive myself. Not ever. I'll try and make it up for it from now on by being the best person I can be, but I also won't apologize for the past anymore either."

That piqued Bart's interest. He left Nell's side to meet James in long, slow strides, using each one to keep himself in control. Ginny tensed, ready to launch forward at the first hint of danger.

"I beg your pardon?" Bart asked the younger man. "My wife and I have had to watch Sophie upend her entire life just to get away from all the pain, all the humiliation you brought on her. Just because you've got a picture doesn't mean you're a father yet."

"All I meant was-"

"It doesn't mean you understand one iota of how much of yourself suffers when your kid cries over a skinned knee or a broken wrist. So imagine what watching her get her heart broken does to you." His chin was almost touching James's at that point, but James didn't back away. "Do you know? Because that one's even worse. There's no spell or bandage for that one, kiddo. The only thing that would heal her is if you'd go back in time and be the man your parents raised you to be."

"I can't do that, sir," James said carefully, his tongue tying just a bit at the formal address.

"No, you can't. All you could do to get within shouting distance of that is apologize and you won't do it." Bart shook his head in disgust, backing away. "You don't think we're entitled to an apology for everything you did to our daughter? Huh? You lose control of your brain and your dick and you shatter my whole family and yet, we don't deserve to hear you grovel for our forgiveness?"

"Maybe you do, but I can't do that." His grip tightened on the picture, perhaps trying to absorb some much needed strength or comfort from it. "Everything I did, all the shitty rotten decisions I made, led to this baby. My baby." Ginny knew it to be a mix of only shadows and light on the paper, but she remembered how much more it really was when it had been her own children on a piece of paper. "You may deserve that apology; you and your wife, and most especially Sophie. I just can't give it to you anymore because this child deserves even more to come into a world where their dad isn't sorry they exist, even in the abstract. I'll try to atone for what I did by being the best father I possibly can be and by helping my son or daughter be a better person than I was." He shrugged in acceptance. "That's all I can do from here on in and how that starts is by putting myself at the mercy of Hastom."

"E-Excuse me?" Ginny asked from behind him, her heart sinking in dread.

What was her brave, idiotic boy doing now?

"I'm not offering any defense at the hearing today," James said, glancing back at his frozen parents. "I'll state the facts of what I've done and let the village decide what it wants to do with me."

Bart studied him with great consideration, searching for something in the earnest expression of the young man speaking to him with a sense of purpose James had never possessed before. "They could throw you out for life," he said after a moment. "They could very easily say you could never set foot here again after today."

"Yes, they could. But ever since I was a baby, I've grown up knowing what Hastom values, what it expects of its citizens. I wasn't honorable and I wasn't putting others above myself. So maybe I don't deserve to call this place home after all."

Nell finally lifted her eyes up to meet the rest of the group, zeroing in straight on James with pinpoint precision, the coldest blaze lighting them.

"Maybe you don't," she agreed.

The speech climbed up the walls of Ginny's throat, itching to shower down indignation all over the judge and jury her (perhaps former) best friend had become. Who was Nell Joanne Nixon to decide the fate of anyone? What gave her the right to decide the value of someone else's life?

_Well, she already did that once with one of your children_, Ginny thought, the notion hitting her square in her aching chest. _Of course she'd think she knew best again._

At that moment, Nell was the luckiest woman alive because the hand Harry kept clamped around her waist tied Ginny to him and it was the only thing keeping her from leaping forward to gouge a hole in the other woman's throat.

Perhaps reading how fraught her emotions were, Sapien spoke out to the lot of them.

"I believe before we rush to make judgments or face them, we should hear from all the aggrieved parties regarding this matter." Motioning Nell to come closer to them, he waited until she inched up to her husband before pulling a letter from his deep pocket and handing it to Nell. "This arrived very early this morning, after I sent my guest out for a proper breakfast." He smirked at James for instant and then turned serious again. "If you would read it aloud, it would be most helpful to our cause."

"Who is that from?" Harry asked as Nell untied the string around it. "Another Council member?"

"No, it is not." The soft exhale of surprise from Bart's lips and the tremor of Nell's chin as they read over the script were all the confirmation that Ginny needed, but Sapien still prompted Nell. "Citizen Nixon, will please read the words your daughter sent to me?"

Even before Nell spoke, James braced himself for the absolute worst; or he could have just hated the thought of being so near to another piece of the girl he still loved. Whatever his reasons for walling himself up physically, Ginny wouldn't let him do it alone this time. Gently grabbing one of his hands, she tugged him back until he was nestled safe between her and Harry. For this, at least, they could support him the way they both needed to.

Just as she gathered herself enough to begin, Nell's eyes met Ginny's for an instant. For that tiniest of tiny seconds, they were not enemies or whatever other bitter term that had come to embody their relationship since this ordeal began; they were simply both mothers of children in desperate pain that couldn't ease it no matter how hard they tried. It was only an instant though, and when Nell's eyes went back to the parchment, Ginny could almost feel a gate slam shut again.

Speaking softly, Nell read:

_Dear Councilman Stellner, _

_I am writing to you because of information I received from my younger sister. She told me she heard through several back channels of communication at her school that James Potter's citizenship may soon be revoked because of an inquiry initiated by my mother. Even as I write this, I struggle not to cry. It was barely more than a month ago that not only would something like that seem too farfetched for rational imagination, but also for the fact that even as real as it now is, I didn't learn of this hearing from my parents or my godparents or…or from James himself. Yet instead, I heard about it from my baby sister, who herself only heard about it secondhand from her best friend's cousin, because Gigi and Lily can't talk about our families anymore for fear of it poisoning their bond. _

_We were all a family at the train station just a month ago. Now I don't know what we are._

_I love my parents very much (though not nearly as much as I know they love me) and I know my mother asked for this hearing because she thinks, perhaps, that if James Potter is not a part of Hastom anymore that I will return to her. That is not the case. All my life, I've lived in the shelter of the people I loved, protected by them and by the beauty and innocence of our community. Maybe that was a bad thing. Maybe if I hadn't been so protected, so sheltered I would have been able to see a sign of something amiss with James. Or maybe not; maybe I loved him enough that I would have been able to play the blind fool while he went on his merry way, doing as he pleased. Now I shall do as I please and that means pursuing a life outside of Hastom. I wish to see the world, see all of its light and darkness so that I can become a stronger person and better healer. There is so much of it out here to see and I do not anticipate coming back to Hastom for quite some time. For that reason, it is my opinion as a formal citizen of Hastom that James should be allowed to remain a citizen as well. _

_I do not forgive him for what he has done to me. I want that to be very clear that even now, weeks since I've seen or spoken to him, that when I do think of him, an anger with no end still wells up inside me that I have difficulty controlling. But just because I am angry with him does not mean that I do not recognize, as a healer in training and as a human being, the monumental changes he will undertake soon. Also from my sister, I know that he and…and the woman decided to have their child. I'm glad for that. All life has value and I'm happy to see that James knows that. That being said, with such enormous responsibilities ahead of him (and given the oh-so-spotty relationship he's had with responsibility as of late) it would be cruel to both him and his parents if there was any unnecessary distance put between them. Let him stay with them so he may truly learn what it means to be a good parent._

_I do not forgive him. He humiliated me, he betrayed me, and he abused the love I gave him freely since childhood. It bears repeating that I unequivocally do not forgive him. That doesn't mean that I don't want to, though. James has been a part of my life since birth and it would truly be a waste to throw away so much history and so much goodness over these recent trials. Because he is good. I doubt so many things lately, but one thing I will never doubt is that deep down, James Potter is a good man. For whatever reason, maybe because of where he thinks he came from or how he thinks some in the world view him because of that fluke of birth, he forgot that he was good. I want him to remember. I want him to be a good man, a good father, and (if he so desires it) to be a good partner to the mother of his child. I want him to be a good man so that someday, when time will hopefully let me forgive him, I can do it without any doubts._

_When that day does come, Councilman Stellner, I also want very much for it to take place in Hastom._

_-  
Citizen Sophie Nixon_

Evil, in whatever form it takes, will never win the daily wars it wages. It may wound and cripple, it may fracture and exploit; it may even strike down some of those who oppose it or corrupt others into its influence. It will do all those things, but it will never win when battling pure, utter goodness.

How easy would it have been for Sophie to give in? How hard must have she fought against the urge to ask for James to be punished, and instead ask for mercy on his behalf? Even for someone like Ginny, who herself had battled a monster so awesome people would not even utter his name, stood in awe of this young woman's strength. Sophie was the one suffering the most yet she was the one trying to help everyone else find a path to healing.

_What a wonderful girl_, Ginny thought, winding her arm even tighter through James's. _What a poor, poor, wonderful girl._

It took them all a moment to recover. The bulk of Harry's body seemed to be the only thing keeping James upright. Other than a stray hitched breath here or there, the boy remained quiet. While Nell reread her daughter's words to herself, Ginny caught sight of the lone tear falling down Bart's cheek. She itched to wipe it away. She itched to wipe it all away, all the pain and hurt they were living with daily, but her son was right: The past had happened and could not be rewritten. All they could do now was pick themselves up and start anew.

"So now we are left," Sapien said, "to come to a decision about the punishment of Citizen James Potter. I feel confident in saying that no one here wishes for this troublesome, private matter to become any more public than it already has. Correct?"

"There's a way to avoid the hearing?" Harry asked.

"Yes, there is. In preparation for this matter, I researched the historical records kept for use only for Council members. In them, there was a case with many similarities to this one, from the nineteenth century. A young man was unfaithful to the woman he was betrothed to with a Muggle girl from the outside world. To spare the woman any more embarrassment from a hearing, the families of the couple came together and with the Council's permission proposed a solution that all parties were satisfied with." He peered over at James, who was staring off into the distance. "Are you following me, Citizen James Potter?"

He was not. Still lost in Sophie's words of him and to him, James's eyes were glazed over, deep in thought. Ginny nudged at his side to get his attention.

"Jamie," she said. "Sapien is speaking to you."

"I-I'm sorry." He shook loose the cobwebs in his mind and refocused. "You said…a solution. Something about a solution."

"If the six of us here today can come to an agreement on what kind of punishment, if any, you will receive, then there will be no need for a hearing. The rest of the Council will adhere to my recommendation and the matter will be settled."

"What happened to this man?" Bart asked. "The one from the nineteenth century. How was he punished?"

"He was expelled from Hastom, but not permanently. He was not allowed contact with anyone in the village and he could not work in Hastom either. Because of his deep remorse, though, his banishment, for lack of a better word, lasted only for thirty days." Ginny sighed inwardly, weak with relief.

James wouldn't lose his home. None of them would lose their lives here.

"That's it?" James frowned in confusion. "I mean, with everything that happened all I get is a month away from the village? I don't understand that, sir."

"Don't talk back, James."

"Mum, I'm not talking back. It just doesn't make any sense." He turned to her. "I ruined lives here and all I feel like I'm getting is a timeout. That isn't fair."

_Oh, you noble, self-sacrificing idiot. You really are Harry Potter's son._

"You're sorry for what's happened. I know you still feel guilty, but that doesn't mean you thumb your nose at compassion when it's being offered to you." The exasperation leeched into her voice. "Be reasonable."

Reasonable, to Ginny, was one month. She could leave Hastom for one month. It would be a long, extended vacation for her, James, and Harry. They could just run away from it all; they could even bring Kerri along and get to know her better. Maybe she'd start to feel comfortable enough to open herself up. One month together would do that and then they could all come back to Hastom so Kerri could apply for her citizenship. One month and all would be forgiven and forgotten. It would all be perfect.

So long as her son was reasonable.

Sapien cut back in before James could respond.

"I understand your need to want to help James move on," he said to Ginny, "but your son is right. He has damaged many people with his actions and while his willingness to atone is admirable, there are still consequences he must face." He directed his next statement at James. "You know that your parents were not born into their citizenship, as you and your siblings were."

"Yes, sir."

"They had to be approved by the village as a whole and spend six months here, proving themselves to be of the utmost character."

"They told me, sir."

"Good, because my proposed solution will ask you to follow in their footsteps." Addressing the group at large, Sapien said, "Six months. Six months away from this village he has called home his entire life, with no contact to anyone inside it. Six months to see that the outside world is a place that can be unjust and cruel, as he himself was to the people he loved. Six months to see whether or not he can put himself back on the proper course. When that time has expired, if he so wishes to return, he will meet with myself and the other Council members. We will decide together if he has earned the right to call himself citizen once again. Is this amenable to you all?"

"Will I be allowed to do magic, sir?" James asked. "My parents told me they couldn't when they first moved to Hastom. Does the same hold true for me?"

"No, you will be free to perform whatever magic you wish to on the outside. During your banishment, none of the rules or laws we adhere to in Hastom will apply to you. That is because during those six months you will not be a citizen. It is a privilege for only those who personify the kindness and empathy we value here." He raised an eyebrow to James. "Is that what you have personified during this past year?"

"No," James replied without hesitation. "No, I haven't."

"Jamie, you can't-"

"Mum, please." He placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look at him as he spoke. "You love me and I'm wonderful in your eyes no matter what. It still doesn't change what I did and when you do bad things, you get punished. That's how you raised me, isn't it? And I know I'm asking far too much of you lately, but I need to ask for one more thing."

"What's that?" she asked, wishing he could tell her something she'd want to hear for once.

"Let me do this. Let me take responsibility. Let me show everyone—myself included—that I can change."

Behind him, Harry nodded to her and she sniffed. They couldn't even try to let her find a way to win, could they?

"You're impossible," she told James. "You're absolutely impossible, the whole ruddy lot of you. I'm the only sane one in our entire family."

"We completely agree," her husband said with a smile. "Don't ever let us forget it."

"Oh, I won't."

Ignoring his parent's banter, James brought his attention back to the Nixons.

"Is this alright with you?" he asked them. "Should…Do you want me to stay away longer or…something else? Make donations to charity or…?"

Wrapping a warm arm around his wife, Bart looked down at her to hear her answer. Nell was still reading over Sophie's letter, tracing over the intricate scrawl with her fingertips.

"No," she said. Her words were still strained but no longer cold. "Six months is…that's enough. That's enough for all of us."

"Yes, it is," Bart agreed.

"Very well," Sapien said. "As of this moment, your citizenship is hereby temporarily revoked. You will have one week to settle your affairs here in Hastom and locate a residence on the outside. After you leave, you will not be allowed back for any purpose. The Council will contact you at the end of your six months to reevaluate the situation. If there are…others you would like to bring back to Hastom with you to apply for their own citizenship," he glanced quickly at Nell and Bart, "we will discuss that then as well."

"And us?" Harry asked Sapien. "Will there be any restrictions on our travel after Ginny and  
I leave the village or can we still come and go?"

"Wait, what?" James started in confusion. "What are you talking about, Dad?"

"I want to know if your mum and I can still come and visit here in the next six months. We still need to keep the house maintained and-"

"But I didn't…You guys don't have to come with me! I won't ask that of you!"

"Of course you wouldn't. We're going with you just the same. Your mum and I discussed this beforehand, and this is what we decided."

"I can do this on my own," James argued stubbornly. "I can find a flat, get my own job. You don't have to follow me around to make sure I'm-"

"Bart was right," Harry cut in. "You're not a father quite yet. You'll be one before you know it, though, and as **your** father, I could never live with myself if I let you do this alone without even being able to give you a Floo call once in a while. I'm going to do what I can to make impending fatherhood easier for you than it was for me. That's my job, and your mum's, and we're not going to let you stop us from doing it, mate."

Utterly resigned, James looked to Sapien. "Am I going to be able to talk them out of this?"

"No, you will not. As for your question, Citizen Harry Potter, you and your wife will face no restrictions on your travel. You are free to come and go as you please. Though perhaps, in this case, a healthy distance might be in order for all involved to recover." He glanced pointedly between all five of them, particularly Ginny and Nell. "If you will excuse me, I must go inform the Council of the decision we reached here."

"Thank you, sir," James said, holding out his hand as Sapien prepared to leave. "Thank you so much."

"You are most welcome. Best of luck to you, Mr. Potter."

It was hearing Sapien addressing her son without his formal title that crushed her. Despite whatever she had told herself or Harry, she hadn't been ready for this. The last card had been dealt and her son had lost his home, possibly forever. They all had lost it. There would be a new member of their family in a matter of months and even though James was convinced this madness was worth that life, Ginny couldn't help but to think that maybe, just maybe in this one moment, the cost was too high; that maybe one life was causing too much pain to those around it.

_And maybe that's what Harry and Nell thought when they made the decision they did nine years ago. _

Unable to hear anything over the load roaring in her ears, Ginny walked away from the whole group, ignoring looks and her husband and son's attempts to get her attention. When Harry and James finally let her go, she kept walking until she left Sapien's property and made her way into the woods that outlined the town's borders.

She wasn't sure how long she walked. It felt like only moments had gone by, but suddenly her legs were cramping and her breath was catching in her chest. Ignoring the rips in her tights, Ginny sat down on a large rock and listened to the silence all around her. The birds flew away, taking their chirping with them and the few squirrels and rabbits scurried away; not even the wind dared to ruffle the tree branches in her presence. It was as if Nature knew she shouldn't be bothered.

It was the quietest it had been inside and outside of Ginny's head in a month. She had only one response for it:

"AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!"

Her lungs burned with freezing fire as her scream finally petered out, trying so hard to force out every frustration and every defeat she had suffered since the night Neville's letter had arrived from Hogwarts. She was trying to expel every slap she hadn't given James, every bitter retort she hadn't thrown out at Harry, and every curse she hadn't leveled at poor Kerri. Most of all, she was trying with all her might to expel the anger she had been hoarding over the years that was begging to be let out into the world.

The world was a big place, though, and if she unleashed her anger onto it, people she loved could be hurt irreparably by it. She might not care about that now, but her head would clear soon enough and she would care then.

Trembling despite the warm sun shining on her, she lamented over the cruel irony of love. No one had ever told her of the price of caring. No one had ever explained what loving someone else more than your own life would cost her and she was grateful. If she had known in the beginning before she fell in love—first with Harry, then her children—she might never have let herself be open to such pain. In the scheme of things, there were always more good days than bad ones; more days when the laughter outnumbered the tears and the bright smiles overpowered tense fights. The good days made everything else worth it.

It was just that the bad days, when they happened, were unbearable.

Ginny had had a lot of bad days lately.

A branch cracked behind her and she tensed, keeping her head straight ahead as someone, most likely Harry, made their way towards her.

"That was quite a big girl scream, wasn't it?"

Ginny turned sharply to find Nell walking closer and closer until she was able to perch herself down on a log ten feet or so away.

"Go away," Ginny ordered quietly. "I don't want you here."

"Well, I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here while you're upset and raging out at the defenseless trees." She smoothed her dress out. "I'd much rather be somewhere less dirty, maybe sharing a cup of tea with you while I make fun of what you're wearing."

Ginny ground down on her teeth until she felt they would break.

"Of course, we're quite mad at each other so I can't do that. Do you want to know what I'd say about your outfit if it wasn't this way?"

"Nell…"

"I'd ask you where your glasses are since you're obviously going for the 'Sexy Librarian Punishing a Young Man for Having Late Books' look." Nell gestured around her face. "You need the glasses to pull the whole thing together."

Without a word, Ginny stared helplessly at an ancient oak in front of her.

"Then you'd counter by asking me how the gypsy funeral I attended earlier today went, to which I'd bring up the outfit you wore to Luna Lovegood's wedding. You'd immediately counter that as a bridesmaid, you'd been forced by law to wear a skirt made entirely of feathers. Then you'd rummage through my house or yours, wherever we were, until you found a picture of some of the more adventurous Halloween costumes my husband has convinced me to wear over the years." She chuckled softly to herself. "Then we'd just move on to some of the crazy things our husbands have done during our marriages and four hours later, we'd look up at the clock and wonder where the day had gone. Believe me, I'd have much rather had that day than the one we actually had."

Ginny could only nod in agreement.

"I-I'm sorry for what I said about James," Nell told her quietly, each word an effort. "No matter how angry I was, there was no call to say that I wished he didn't even exist; especially when it isn't true. As a mother, I had no right."

Her eyes firmly on the tree, Ginny simply said, "No, you didn't."

"He's…He's my godson and I love him. I held him in my arms before even you did. I don't know what my life would be like that without him. I might not even have my children if being around him hadn't convinced Bart how much we needed them." She sniffled throatily, but Ginny didn't dare look over. "He destroyed my daughter; made her into someone overnight that I didn't recognize and before I could try, she ran away from me. Maybe in the end it'll work out and be for the best, but that day at my house when you came over, in that moment I…I just forgot that he's my boy, too."

"It was more than a moment. Admit that much, at least."

"Okay, fine!" Nell huffed. "I wanted him to suffer in some way. I wanted him to be forced away from his home like Sophie had been. That mean, ugly part of humanity that lives in all of us overtook my better judgment and I set this whole trial revocation in motion. I am sorry, Ginevra. I am sorry that in this one instance of our entire friendship, I deliberately went out of my way to hurt one of your children."

At that, Ginny's head snapped to the side to see Nell standing with her hands on her hips.

"I concede that. It was petty. I may have told myself there were good intentions and that I was doing it for the sanctity of Hastom, but I was really just pissed that your son killed my daughter's spirit."

With a sigh, Nell rubbed her temples and sat down closer to Ginny on the rock. "I know he's trying," she continued, reaching out to lay her hand as close to Ginny's without actually touching it. "He's trying to do better for his child and I want him to so that I can be proud to love him again instead of feeling a little ashamed. What I want even more, though, is my best friend back. I miss you. I miss Harry and the kids and dinners and planning shared vacations and talking about taking couples pottery classes, even though we never would. I miss my family. Ginny, I just want you back in my life." Tentatively, her fingertips grazed Ginny's. "Please, please forgive me. Please."

Normalcy would be easy. Ginny knew it would be so easy to take Nell's hand and start mending fences. She could immediately make a terrible joke to lighten the mood that would have Nell groaning and the two of them gasping for breath with laughter. She could make this easier on everyone around them if she just put a smile on her face and put the past behind her.

Ginny knew she could do it easily. After all, she had once before.

She also knew that "right" and "easy" were two very different things. It was what she was trying to show James every day, praying it took hold in him, and hopefully it already was. He was now doing what was right, both for him and his future son or daughter. And Ginny knew full well how difficult it was for him, how much he was struggling with each choice. Didn't she owe it to him to lead by example?

Didn't she owe it to herself to do what was right for her instead of letting her love for her family cloud her decisions?

She tapped her fingers against Nell's, forcing herself to look the other woman in the eye as she said what she had to. "Do you know what I want?"

The glimmering shine of hope staring back at her didn't make it any easier for Ginny, but that wasn't what this was about anymore. "What? Tell me," Nell prodded.

"I…I want my son back."

Nell frowned in confusion. "But I thought you and Harry were going with-"

"I meant Evan," Ginny said simply. "My oldest son is going to be a father soon and when I should be concentrating on him and his needs, all I can think about is his little brother. I never even met him, but lately he's everywhere for me. I want Evan back."

"Oh sweetie…" The confusion faded and unwanted understanding took its place. "I…I didn't know…"

"It's funny," Ginny continued, shaking her head in amazement. "That's the first time I've said his name out loud in forever. I think the last time was about two years ago when my niece was pregnant with Sebastian. She asked me about it; about what it felt like to lose a child and I gave her my standard answer: It's a pain like no other but it lessens with time. The memory of it lessens the time."

"I know with James's baby you…you must be revisiting a lot of-"

"The thing of it is the memory doesn't lessen, not a bit. You just have to train yourself not to think of it at all. It takes some practice. You work your way up from it consuming you every minute to every thirty minutes or every hour." Ginny clucked her tongue a few times. "That first day you try, though, that's the killer. That's the one that really tries to break you."

"Alright look," Nell got down on her knees in front of Ginny and laid her hands in Ginny's lap. "I think this is good. I think it's good that you're recognizing this loss before your grandchild comes. You never really did back then, we all thought so: Me, Harry, Molly, Hermione, Luna, we all were worried that you wouldn't talk about it when it happened and when you were up and around, you just put all your focus on the kids and…" She sighed in frustration at the memory and collected herself. "Okay. I'm sorry I didn't help you grieve when you needed to. I am, Ginny, I am so sorry. Let me be there for you now properly. Let me help you now."

Ginny felt her emotions coiling tighter and tighter inside her chest and she stood up, gently pushing her friend away. "I asked for it before and I didn't get it," she told her. "I won't make that mistake again."

"What are you talking about?" Nell asked, bewildered.

"How many times, Nell? How many times did I tell you something about that pregnancy felt wrong? Ten? Twenty? A few dozen? I don't even remember."

"No." Nell shook her head in horror, rising slowly. "No, now wait a minute-"

"You have three other children keeping you on your toes, of course you're tired," Ginny mimicked, her visits to Nell's office flashing through her mind. "It's only a tension headache, sweetie, probably from going back to decaffeinated tea."

"You cannot think-"

"Things are swelling? Oh, you're in for a rude awakening when you get a sight of your belly in a few months."

"-that I would ever purposely misdiagnose you! Or that I was lazy with how I treated you!"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Feeling 'off' isn't a real symptom." Ginny stopped and glared at Nell. Her look may not have been able to kill, but if it could it would certainly maim. "You didn't believe me. It was **my** body. You should have trusted me over your precious tests."

Nell's mouth hung open, staggered, her face draining. "You…You…You had no risk factors," she struggled to say. "There was no way to know…All of your symptoms could have been related to the pregnancy. No healer would have thought to test you for viral Serpacsis, not a one."

"That's right. Pass the knut along, Nell." Disgusted, Ginny turned her back and started to leave.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Nell marched ahead of Ginny and stood her ground, even as Ginny tried to edge past her. "You don't get to accuse me of something like that and walk away."

"Move. Please move."

"Serpacsis isn't even found in this part of the world anymore. You and Harry hadn't traveled outside of England so it wasn't even a thought," Nell said in a rush. "Bill didn't think to mention the cursed artifacts from Zambia he had handled for a bank client; he examined them, sat with you at your parents' that same night, and infected you. You were already in the hospital in organ failure by the time we figured it out, four weeks later. It was too late."

"Let me pass," Ginny said, still trying to find an angle around Nell.

"It was too late," Nell repeated. "We didn't catch it in time. It ran roughshod over your liver and your kidneys before it started going after your heart. You were going to die if we didn't treat it aggressively and we couldn't do that if you were still pregnant. We couldn't save you both."

Ginny ceased her movement, curling her hands into fists. "And I told you which one of us to save. Do you remember me saying over and over throughout those days to save my baby? Do you?"

"Yes," Nell said softly, surprising Ginny. "I do remember. But do you remember what else you were saying during those days?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about all the times you asked when your brother Fred was coming to visit. And the times you insisted that someone named Kreacher had hidden the good silverware or when you kept swearing that Lionel Dresden was never going to touch your baby."

Ginny blinked, studying Nell for any trace of deception. Nothing the other woman was saying sounded familiar to her, but she knew that other woman to the finite detail and she knew that Nell wasn't able to lie that smoothly on a whim.

"The best or I guess the worst, was the time you regained consciousness for a few moments, and looked up at Harry and…and you screamed for the whole floor to hear you." Her shoulders squared, preparing for the worst. "You called him Tom Riddle and begged him not to make you hurt anyone anymore. You even slapped him across the face before we sedated you. It was the only time during the whole ordeal he left your side and it was to collapse into Ron's arms in the hallway."

_I…I…I never could have…_ Ginny thought. She felt physically ill at just the idea of calling Harry something like that; his reaction must have been far worse.

"You were not mentally competent to make decisions," Nell said over Ginny's own musings. "The virus caused delirium and hallucinations. You had only short periods of lucidity. Three different healers specializing in the mind examined you and they all agreed that Harry had to be the one to make your medical decisions because you couldn't."

"I-I don't remember that," Ginny admitted weakly.

Some aspects of those awful days at St. Mungo's were of such sharp clarity, Ginny might have only lived them yesterday yet there were blank spots as well; times when Harry's scruffy facial hair was suddenly darker and conversations with people ended too abruptly. It was possible Nell was right about her mental faculties and the severity of her state. One of the strongest memories was the unnatural effort it took her to breathe towards the end of the pregnancy. Logically, she understood perfectly well how close to dying she had come.

Logic wasn't what was flying the broomstick, though.

"You know me, just as I know you," Ginny replied, her voice finding strength despite her heart's pain. "You were my healer then, but above that you were my best friend. And you knew Evan's life mattered far more to me than mine did. I would have had no problem whatsoever dying if it meant he had a chance."

"But he didn't, Ginny." Nell put her hand over her heart. "I swear on my daughters that he could not have survived. We had a choice between a life we had no hope of saving versus one with a small glimmer and we made the choice we had to."

"Yes, you did. **You** made the choice. Not me, not his mother."

"Ginny, please…"

"Be a mother when you think back on those days; be me and have Sophie still inside you. The only thing that's keeping you clinging to life is that little girl, her tiny fingers and toes tickling you from the inside." Her face contorted, Nell crouched down against a tree and put her head between her knees as Ginny continued talking. "She needs you. She needs you to be strong for her and you're trying; you're bloody well trying as hard as you can, but no matter how strong your will is you can't get better for her. You trust your husband and your friend to pull you through. You're counting on them the way Sophie counts on you. Only instead of helping you, they take away the only thing that's keeping you alive."

"Because," Nell said, one lone tear escaping, "it was the only thing they could do."

"And that may very well be true. But even if they didn't mean to, they killed a part of you when they did and try as you might, it's never come back."

They fell into silence. To an outside observer, Ginny imagined the scenario she and Nell were trapped in was inescapable; both women were exactly right and exactly wrong in equal doses. It was what happened when love and logic met in a head-on collision. Carnage was left all around and those left behind were often too tired to try and pick up the pieces.

Ginny put her back to Nell's tree and slid to the ground by her friend. The right thing was quite exhausting.

"So where does this leaves us?" Nell asked after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you…you're angry with me. You're angrier with me than you've ever been with anyone."

"Yes," Ginny admitted. "I am." She turned, putting her chin to her shoulder and catching Nell's watery eye. "That doesn't mean I don't still love you."

"You just don't want me in your life right now."

"I didn't even know until all this started with James how mad at you I've been all these years. I'm not stupid or anything, despite how I act occasionally; I just didn't want to lose you. So much of my life exists because of you and our friendship. To throw all that away seemed…" She shrugged reluctantly. "I couldn't do it then."

"But you can now?"

"I don't want to be angry with you, Nell. I **need** to be angry with you. I need to grieve and this is a part of it. I need to try and purge this…this disgusting animosity from my body. I need to rage and scream at trees and think awful things about you sometimes without having to worry if I'm going to see you the next day." Ginny wanted to giggle at the absurdity of it all. Or maybe weep. "I have to let you go for a little while."

"A healthy distance and all that rubbish?"

"Yeah, I guess so." She couldn't stop herself from putting her hand over Nell's. "Besides, you're still pretty pissed at me by default for my demon spawn."

Blessed Nell didn't try to deny her. "It's going to be so strange not seeing you guys here. It won't feel like home, that's for sure."

"Maybe you and Bart should travel for a while. Klaus can manage the pub and that girl you've been training can handle all the runny noses and fast-growing toenails here."

"Celia? She's practically still sucking her thumb."

"You're just jealous because she doesn't need to use a Levitating Charm on her tits yet." Ginny scooted over slightly until she could put her head on Nell's shoulder as it shook with laughter. "You've trained her well. Take some time for yourself and Bart."

"He did say he wanted to take me to America. Something about going to a place called Graceland to visit a king."

"I thought they didn't have royalty in the States?"

"I have no idea. You know it's easier sometimes to just let him keep talking without stopping for questions." Nell let her cheek rest on top of Ginny's hair, both of them enjoying these last moments together. "Are you really going to think bad things about me?"

"Don't worry." Ginny tried to sound jovially but couldn't quite get there. "You'll do the same for me."

"I'm so sorry I didn't help you earlier."

"I'm sorry I didn't ask for it."

A bird squawked loudly overhead, forcing the two of them to jump apart. Before the awkwardness became unbearable, Nell asked, "Listen, this anger towards me over…over Evan, does it extend to your husband?"

Ginny shrugged again. "Sometimes yes and sometimes no. Why?"

"Because seeing as we're still friends for the next thirty seconds or so, I have to tell you that the decision Harry made was under duress. You were dying in front of him and everyone around him, including me, was saying the only way he could have you back was to end the pregnancy. It wasn't easy for him then and I think if you ask him, you'll see it's not easy for him now either."

_Really? Because he's never given any indication otherwise._

"I know that look," Nell said in reproach. "Don't do that. Don't presume to know what's in his head or his heart. That got you into a real bit of trouble a while back, remember?"

"He doesn't even say his name," Ginny replied. "All these years and I can't ever recall him using Evan's name. It's like it never happened for him."

"Believe me, it did. You like imaging things so much? Imagine yourself watching Harry die for days on end, with no way of a cure except to sacrifice a child of yours that's already gone." Nell raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Can you say you'd have done differently than he did? Honestly, can you?"

If Nell hadn't insisted on the honesty, it wouldn't be at all difficult for Ginny to say how little thought she'd have to put into such a decision. With the parameter of honesty attached to it though, there was a distinct blurriness to the whole picture that prickled the skin at the back of Ginny's neck. Would she have listened to Harry's pleas that their sons or daughter mattered more? Would she have stayed strong and willed him back to survival? Or would the sight of him pale and lifeless been her undoing? Would she have listened to those behind her clamoring for action?

Would she have chosen to be a cruel wife or a cruel mother?

Unable to find an answer for herself, she tried to brush aside the question. "It doesn't matter what I'd have done because it already happened. Now we have to live with it."

"Well, all that turmoil I just read over every inch of your face," Nell countered, "only tells me you know it wasn't as black and white from his view as it was from yours. You remember that properly when this subject comes up with Harry so you don't say something you can't unsay." Using the tree for leverage, Nell got to her feet. "You need him now."

"I know."

"He's waiting for you at the Burrow, by the way. I sent him on his way after I told him I'd find you. James will meet you both there." She extended her hand down to Ginny. "You should pretty yourself up before you head over."

Taking Nell's hand, Ginny picked herself up and without hesitating engulfed Nell in a tight hug.

"Tell me we're going to be okay someday," she whispered in Nell's ear. "Even if you have to lie a little. I just need to hear it."

"I will never lie to you and I say that we will be okay." Her breath hitched against Ginny's neck. "But I've been wrong before."

"Me, too."

Her arms were aching from the force of their goodbye when Ginny finally started letting go. It was slow, but eventually they were free of each other. Unable to bear the thought of seeing the words as she heard them, Ginny turned her back to Nell, reminding herself to keep her breaths slow and deep to avoid hyperventilating.

"I'll see you," Nell whispered. "Take care of your family for me."

Ginny barely heard her over her own breathing. "You take care of yours," she said tearfully. "Take good care of them, especially Bart. He eats like he's still sixteen when you're not around. You'll be a widow before you're…"

The usual growl of irritation that accompanied conversation about Bart's eating habits was nowhere to be heard and Ginny turned slowly, half a step at a time to find nothing but air behind her. She hadn't even heard the Apparition or the rustle of leaves over the silent wailing of her own sorrow.

For the first time in eighteen years, she didn't have Nell Nixon in her life.

"Okay," Ginny mumbled to herself. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

Or it wouldn't be. There was better to even odds that their bond had been irrevocably frayed to the point beyond repair. She might never speak to Nell or Bart again and she'd have to be okay with it.

That was the price of her choice.

"Okay," she repeated, trying to put her mind into focus. If she said it enough, maybe it was true. "Okay. Okay."

With that as her mantra, she spun quickly on her toe and Apparated away, opening her eyes when she felt the familiar hardwood floor of her mother's kitchen underneath her feet. A party would do little to dispel her mood, but it felt like she was losing family left and right. Harry's thought that morning in their room had been the right one: They needed as much of it around them now as they could grab.

She was alone in the kitchen, though it smelled of fresh warm bread and even warmer carrot soup. The walls muted the noises coming from outside. Slipping her heels from her aching feet, Ginny walked to the window and saw a scene she had taken for granted for far too long:

All of the family—save for the children at Hogwarts—were in the yard. Some were spread out over the four dining room tables they needed to seat everyone; others were mingling with various other guests or throwing around a beat-up Fanged Frisbee. There were loose collars and bare feet for all (except, of course, Percy) with enough food for an army three times the one that had taken on Voldemort and a birthday cake roughly the size of the one year old in the center of the main table.

Her mother was everywhere all at once. When a plate of food emptied, she was refilling it at the same time she was shouting to her husband to stay away from the shed and trying to get George to take a picture of the sleeping birthday boy in Victoire's lap. Charlie seemed to be describing a wildly fantastic story to Andromeda Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a few of her sisters-in-law. Percy was doing his best to dispose of a few stray gnomes that were at the feet of some of Teddy's co-workers from Flourish and Blotts while Bill stood a little ways away from everyone else, taking it all in as he held Fleur close to him, neither looking anywhere near what one would call a grandparent.

_Oh Godric_, Ginny thought with a frown. _I'll be younger than them when the little one's born. Strangers will be confusing me for the mum. Or maybe I'll have gone gray with stress by then. That'll prompt fewer questions at least._

Thinking of her impending grandparenthood had her seeking out her husband. She finally found him sitting in a small group of chairs with Ron and Hermione, deep in conversation. Her brother and his wife seemed fine with Harry doing most of the talking, only offering a nod here or there. He still held himself far too tense for her liking, but even from her distance she could see relief in his features for being able to unburden himself to his oldest friends.

It was funny. They saw more of Nell and Bart so Ginny always felt she and Harry were closest to them, but in reality they were the people they were when the Nixons came into their lives, Harry in particular, because of their relationships with Ron and Hermione. The past formed the present and the future. It hadn't been intentional yet because of careers and families and life in general, she couldn't say that she knew Ron and Hermione as well anymore as she should.

That would change. That would change very quickly. Relationships needed work, be they friendships or marriages, and she wouldn't risk another again for the sake of easiness.

Still trying to gather the courage to go outside, she startled when she heard the Floo flare to life. Curious as to who else was arriving as unfashionably late as she was, Ginny went to the fireplace only to find James climbing out of it, dusting himself off and reaching back for someone else.

"Kerri?" Ginny stared in wonder as the young woman coughed and sputtered, wiping powder off her rather modest navy-blue dress. There were no piercings except for small hoops in her ears and her hair was all one color, her own natural light brown.

"Hey, Mum." James reached over for a quick squeeze. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Uh, yes," she assured him, still trying to take in the sight of Kerri; especially a Kerri clutching James's free hand as she stared wide-eyed, looking all around the first magical place she had ever been in. "What are you two doing here?"

"I-I hope this is okay," Kerri said nervously. "I told James that-"

"She's meeting the family," James said, pulling back and standing next to Kerri again, keeping his hand in hers. There wasn't so much a sense of possession in his demeanor but Ginny could see it was something more than it had been before. "I wanted her to meet everybody."

"You did?"

"Yeah." He looked over her shoulder at the party going on outside. "Do you want to help introduce everyone to the mother of your grandchild?"

There would always be choices, for Ginny and for everyone else. One never knew what would come of them; a seemingly mammoth one could change nothing while a mundane one could stop the world on its head. There were no guarantees and no roadmaps nor Seers with enough sight to see everything through. She herself had made an enormous choice just a short time ago and even though she didn't understand what it meant, even though **he** might not understand what it meant, James was making one as well.

Wiping the last hint of moisture from her eyes, Ginny pulled Kerri from James's grip and started to lead her outside.

"It's going to be a little overwhelming," she warned the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "but don't fret; we'll have Jamie's Aunt Hermione whip you up some notecards to keep everyone straight. Are you hungry?"

"Famished, for once." Kerri patted her stomach. "That's a good sign, right?"

"It is, and you've come to the most perfect place on Earth for a pregnant woman." Ginny smiled brighter than she had in days as she opened the door.

Massive or mundane, Ginny had no idea what would come of this choice.

She only knew she'd be okay as long as she had all these wonderful people with her.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Okay, halfway through summer and I got something out. That means I can take off until September, right? No? Fine, I'll get working on the next chapter. Huge thanks to Carolynn for reading through this. Be safe out there and let me now what you think!**

The moon was just coming out when the party started winding down. Little Sebastian Lupin, having blown out his first candle while smearing frosting from his chin to his forehead, was making the rounds with his parents to say goodbye to all the guests who had come to The Burrow. Ginny watched wistfully as they stopped at James and Kerri; though hesitant, James took the infant into his arms and pulled him close. Even folded all the way across the yard in a lawn chair, through the bright glow of the lanterns magically suspended around them, it was easy for Ginny to see how unsure Kerri was with just her hand on Sebastian's head of silvery blonde curls.

"They've got so much to learn," Ginny said with a sigh to Hermione, seated next to her.

Her sister-in-law nodded, taking a long swig of Butterbeer.

"The baby's not coming tomorrow." She passed the bottle over to Ginny, who only took a small sip. "Besides, and I say this as someone with an admittedly unhealthy obsession with education, you don't really know anything about child-rearing until the baby's actually there living with you."

"That is true."

Hermione waited a long moment before asking, "They're absolutely sure? That they want to raise the baby, I mean?"

"Of course."

"I only ask because adoption…it's not easy. I know that. It just gives them a chance to…" Hermione trailed off at the flash of sadness in Ginny's eyes. "I'm sorry. You must be sick of all these questions after today."

"No, no. I'm glad everyone has been so understanding about the whole thing." She looked on as, at James's urging, Kerri took Sebastian and cradled him awkwardly as his little arms and legs failed out. "And there have been times when I've thought that maybe it would be best for everyone, especially the baby, if we found a nice couple to take it in. I hate myself when I do, but I think it nonetheless."

Hermione glanced between her nephew and Ginny. "They really won't consider it?"

"They say they did. They just decided that the baby was there responsibility and that they'd do their best. I hope that's good enough, for all three of their sakes."

"She seems like she's got a good head on her shoulders." Hermione winced a little as Teddy finally took pity on Kerri and took his squalling son back from her as James squeezed her shoulder in support. "No younger siblings I take it?"

"Barely any type of parents. After her mother died, she was in and out of state homes and foster care until she turned sixteen."

"Poor thing."

"Don't ever say that to her. She'll bite your head off."

"Trust issues, I take it?"

"More like trust volumes. You have to move very, very slowly with her."

"Well for all that, she did excellent today. I mean, this family can be a bit…"

"Too much?"

"I was going to say crushingly overbearing."

"That too."

"I'm amazed Arthur let her leave his side," Hermione said with a laugh.

Ginny smiled at the memory of her father asking Kerri again and again to try and explain how Muggle kites stayed in the air without the use of magic. Between that, Molly's grilling about what kind of tarts she liked to eat, George's attempt to feed her joke sweets, (which Ginny herself put a quick stop to), and every other aunt, cousin, relation, and family friend trying to get her life story out of her within the past few hours, it was amazing that Kerri was still on her feet.

Thankfully, James had stayed close to her throughout the whole party. Whether it was explaining the different types of broomsticks everyone was flying during a game of pick-up Quidditch, refilling her plate with food, or stealing her away when someone's questions looked to be overwhelming her, James had supported her through it all. So much so in fact that to Ginny, he looked nothing at all like the young man Kerri had described him to be only a day ago: the one who's only affection was to the baby and not to the woman carrying it.

What had sparked the turnaround, Ginny couldn't say. She just hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't temporary.

Hermione took the drink back and drained it. "Care for another?"

At the thought, Ginny's stomach flipped unpleasantly. "No thanks. I am done for the night," she replied.

"Getting practice for a life of grannie-hood already then?"

"Something like that."

Summoning a full bottle to her, Hermione popped it open. "So, without meaning to sound like a selfish little bint even though I probably will, can I ask the unspeakable question?"

Ginny frowned in confusion.

"Am I ever going to be able to sit in a room together with two of my best girlfriends again?" Hermione continued, looking at her drink instead of Ginny. "Or shall I just start mentally preparing myself for a relationship with you and a separate one with Nell?"

It was inadequate and not at all what Hermione would want to hear, but it was all that Ginny had to answer with:

"I don't know. I just…don't know."

"She told me what she said to you, about James. It was awful, truly, but you can't think she really meant-"

"It's not about that. I mean, it was at first, but not anymore."

"Then what is it?"

Was it fair to drag Hermione into this? It wasn't her mess. It wasn't her friendship with Nell on the brink of ending. She had no right to force Hermione into an emotional war when her sister-in-law was safely off in a neutral zone.

_Neutral_, Ginny thought, remembering. _Like Switzerland…_

"You don't need to tell me," Hermione finally said while Ginny was still years and years away. "It's okay. I think I have an idea at any rate."

"You do?"

"I was there nine years ago, Ginny. It was unbearable to all us bystanders; I can't begin to imagine what it did to you or to Nell, having to do what she did. Add all that pain to the fact that James is having a baby when he's practically still one and it wasn't that hard to put together. Not for me, at least."

"It must be nice always being the smartest witch in the room, isn't it?"

"It comes in handy now and again." Hermione grew serious again. "I'm here if you ever want to talk about it."

"Thank you," Ginny said softly, reaching to squeeze her friend's hand, hoping that Hermione heard all the words she couldn't say.

"Is there anything I can do right now for you?"

"You could become my real estate agent and make a new house appear for me out of thin air."

"Well, that depends."

"On what?"

"Your brother, that you so foolishly let me marry, has decided that he wants to take up weightlifting because he wants to look like those oily, gargantuan blokes in Muggle magazines your dad still finds off the street. I think George dared him to. For the past two weeks, there have been dumbbells and sweaty hand towels all over my house and Ron, sore back and all, now wants to turn one of the children's rooms into a home gym."

"What's your point, besides my brother is an idiot?"

"That if you want me to get you a new house, you are taking Ronald with you as part of the deal."

It wasn't particularly funny or original; they'd been making fun of Ron and his penchant for unintentional absurdity since they were all at Hogwarts. But once the first giggles escaped her and Hermione's lips, Ginny felt something inside her unfurl and before she knew it, her shoulders were shaking and her throat was burning as she succumbed to laughter.

"Ginny! Are you alright?" Hermione asked her after a full thirty seconds of hysterics.

_Of course I am_, she thought, amazed she hadn't fallen out of the chair yet. _I'm free._

And she was. For the first time since that night in the Hogwarts infirmary, Ginny didn't have to worry about how anyone she loved would look at her or her eldest again. There was no more hiding behind excuses or unfounded fears, no more pretending that everything could ever be as it was before the train had left on September 1st. Everyone who mattered to her knew all the sordid details and now they could begin the next phase of this…this life they were all now committed to.

She was free and surprisingly, it felt damn good.

It took several gasps of air before Ginny was under control again. She wiped away tears that weren't being caused by heartache for once and turned back towards Hermione.

"I am…" She let out one last shuddering breath, holding a hand over her calming heart. "I am not sure yet, but I am better than I was a few hours ago."

Whatever Hermione was going to say was interrupted by the arrival of their husbands.

"What are you two going on about?" Ron asked as he crouched slowly next to Hermione's chair while Harry stayed standing beside Ginny. "We could hear you laughing all the way in the shed."

"Nothing much," Hermione said, still looking confused about Ginny's bout with the giggles. "Just the Potters' sudden state of homelessness."

Instead of snorting and making a smart comment, as Ginny expected him to, Ron simply looked up to Harry and raised his eyebrows.

"It's your brilliant plan, mate. You tell her."

"Tell me what?" Ginny asked, her eyes pinging back and forth between the two men.

Harry, bless him, looked only mildly nervous as he ran a hand through Ginny's hair. "See, Ron thinks you're going to blow your top when you hear this, but I know you better and I know that you will take this in calmly and rationally." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Right?"

"Tell me and we'll find out for sure."

"I was talking with Teddy and Victoire before and she told me that she got offered a job as an associate professor at Beauxbatons. She's starting next week to cover for someone who just went on a leave and Teddy's going to start working on his first book while she's teaching."

"Well, that's wonderful, but how does that pertain to us at all?"

"They also decided that they want to try living in France while she's there; you know, for a change of scene and to spend time with Fleur's family." He smiled brightly for her, a bit too brightly. "So that means that Grimmauld Place will be vacant for the foreseeable future."

"Grimmauld Place?" she asked, hoping she had heard him wrong.

"Yup."

"So to be clear," Ginny said slowly, "you want us to move from a place as near to Utopia as one can get to a dreary townhouse that uses the heads of dead house elves as wall décor?"

"Used," Harry corrected. "They used them in the past. Victoire's done a lot of work on the place these past couple of years: Invisibility and Disillusionment Charms, all new furniture and wall paper; hell, she even figured out how to keep Mrs. Black's portrait quiet. Same spell Hermione used on old Phineas Nigellus's portrait about a hundred years ago. The old quack can't screech if she can't see anything."

Ginny frowned in thought, feeling the stress slowly leach back into her system. It wasn't the portrait or the interior or the memory of spending that awful night there, wondering whether her father was going to live to see Christmas or even the frighteningly vivid recollection of how haggard Harry had looked there the few times she had seen him there during her last year of school that was the cause of Ginny's unease (though the latter made her heart throb); rather, it was the idea that no matter where they lived for the next six months, be it a palace or a hovel or the former noble House of Black, it wouldn't be where she wanted to be. It wouldn't be her home and for a person who was at her most grounded when she was watching the lake where her children had learned to swim or relaxing by the fireplace in their bedroom that her husband had built just for her, it was going to be a very long six months.

"Think of it this way," Hermione offered helpfully. "In terms of practicality, you won't be losing any of your privacy because Grimmauld is still Unplottable. Plus, it'll be easier for us to see you."

"It would be nice to have dinner at your place without having to make plans a month in advance," Ron added.

Ginny scowled at him. "Of course your feeding schedule is first and foremost, Ron."

"And," Hermione glanced over at James and Kerri, quietly talking alone together, "James can be closer to her if they're both living in London. That's the best thing for them, isn't it?"

"That's dirty," Ginny said, turning her frown towards her friend. "That's very underhanded and Slytherin of you."

Ron smirked proudly. "Whatever gets the job done, sis." Pulling his wife to her feet along with him, he said to her, "Alright we've done our part. Let's let Harry fight his own battles. I think Mum has more ice cream stashed in the house."

"You already had your three allotted desserts for the evening, Ronald! You can't just keep eating like you're…"

Slipping into Hermione's vacant seat, Harry waited to speak until she and Ron were arguing a ways away. "So what do you think?"

"I think you sprung this on me after one of the longest days of my entire life and that was very unfair of you."

"Point taken, but it doesn't answer my question."

"I never liked Grimmauld, even when you were living there. It always just seemed like the place we were staying in until I was done with school and we got our lives together."

"Well, now it can be the place we stay in until our son gets his life together."

"That is not funny, Harry."

"What do want me to say? Unless you want to leave James on his own for the next six months, Hastom—the place where we both really want to be, by the way—is off the table." His head lolled towards her. She could be imagining it, but it looked like there were a few fresh strands of gray at his temple. "Without building a whole new house complete with wards and Anti-Detection Charms in a week's time, Grimmauld solves the most problems. With everything else going on, why make things harder on ourselves for something like this?"

Ginny chewed lightly on her lower lip as she tried to figure out how to say what she really feared about that particular house.

"With everything going on, we're probably going to be a bit angry and depressed in the near future," she admitted. "The last time you lived there and you were angry and depressed, it…it wasn't healthy for you."

"I'm not eighteen anymore, Luv. I know how to handle that darkness now. So do you."

"You can look me in the eye and tell me you could live in that house for six months? The same one that nearly drove Sirius to madness? The one where you started that hunt that nearly killed you? The one that nearly made you suicidal after the war?" Her eyes implored him for an answer to set her at ease. "Honestly, can you?"

"Are you going to be there with me?" he asked her seriously.

"Of course I will."

"Then I'll be fine." Reaching over, he traced a finger softly down her cheek. "We're not kids this time. We know the cost. I know that you'll fight for me if I start going down a bad path just like I hope that you know that I'll do the same for you. We 'll get through it all together, Ginny, like we always have."

Something in her, the part of her wounded soul that was still open and raw from her words with Nell, wanted to fight him on that. It wanted to ask him where he had been those days and weeks after Evan's death when she couldn't dress herself or eat or change her bed sheets. It wanted to know where his tears had been when hers had been soaking the pillow and what he had heard in his dreams while she had heard their son crying endlessly in hers.

But even as she wanted to lash out at him, her logic found a way to keep a firm hand on the gate because she remembered that even on the weekends her mother couldn't be there and when Nell was home with her girls, there had always been a fresh plate of food by her bedside table and clean clothes folded for her on the dresser. She had never run out of tissues and even when she felt like she had been sleeping for two days straight, her sheets had never smelled of sweat.

Maybe it hadn't been in the way she wanted it, but Harry had been there for her; fighting for her to get better, to get stronger and she had. She had gotten out of that bed one day, determined to try and push onward.

It had just come with a cost.

"Why don't you ever say Evan's name?" Ginny asked her husband. His eyes and the hand he had on her face both froze and she immediately chided herself. Timing was never her strong suit. "I'm sorry. Before, earlier with Nell, she said that…she said a lot of things about what happened then. I-I didn't mean to blurt it out like that."

"How…How did you mean it then?" Harry asked in a small voice.

Ginny looked up to the stars. They saw everything, heard everything. Maybe they had the guidance she needed. "The rational side of me knows why you made the choice you did. If it had been anyone else besides the two of us, I wouldn't have even questioned another husband doing what you did. I was dying and the only for me to get better was…was for what happened to happen. Afterwards though, you went on with everything like nothing bad had ever happened. You kept loving the kids, loving me, and being this wonderful family man that took care of everyone. It didn't affect you at all." The stars blinked back at her without emotion or help. "It still doesn't seem like it does to you and it makes me so angry. I know with everything going on with James that this is the absolute worst time in the world to try and deal with this, but I can't stop. I ignored this for too long already. It damaged what Nell and I had. I don't want that to happen to us."

A sharp peal of laughter caught her attention. Across the yard, Kerri was trying to keep her mouth covered as she chortled at the sight of James demonstrating proper gnome-flinging techniques.

"And I know how self-centered I've been lately," she admitted, to him and herself. "The two of them," she indicated towards James and Kerri, "have so much to figure out and while I should be helping them get their lives in order or repairing my relationship with our family or being as good of wife to you as you are a husband to me, I just let myself get bogged in all of these questions and feelings that I can't understand. I make everything about me under the guise of wanting what's best for our family."

"You haven't done that," Harry denied. After a pause, he continued, "Not with everything."

"But some things I have. Like James wanting to be an Auror. That's…I may hate it, but I know as his mother that it's his choice. I needed to make it a battle, though. Maybe I just feel so out of control that I need to fight at anything. Maybe I just want to be miserable all the time, I don't know. I just want to know if this makes sense or you feel any of this too or if I'm just going completely batty. Tell me, please."

For a long time, Harry said nothing. Their family mingled around them, keeping the party going just like at any festive Weasley gathering, but they all kept their distance from the married Potters.

"I'm not like you." Her eyes stayed trained on the sky, no matter how much she wanted to look at him. "You grew up in a place where you could cry if you got hurt or scream if you got angry. That wasn't how I was brought up. If I was hurt and I showed it, I only got hurt that much worse. Anger wasn't even an option. With only a few exceptions that I can think of, that's how we still operate: you let it out and I hold it in as much as I can until I can't anymore. It's what we're conditioned to do and I don't know if there's enough therapy in the world to undo it completely."

She nodded slowly in agreement. "I really wish sometimes that you'd let me find and kill your aunt and uncle."

"Just because I'm holding it in, just because I keep it inside doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less," he continued, ignoring. "Since Kerri decided to have James's baby, I've thought every single day about…" Ginny glanced over at him, "about what happened to our last child."

"To Evan."

"Yes." Try as she might, she couldn't hold back the sigh of disappointment. With a sigh of his own, Harry let his hand dangle over the side of the chair to hang between the two of them. "If I could do this your way—tell you every feeling, good or bad; grieve the way you want me to; be the man you want me to, then I would. Except if I did that though, I'd only…I'd…"

"Be protecting me even when it hurts you," Ginny finished, her breath catching on the last word.

"Yeah. Which, if you remember everyone under the sun telling us when we first got back together, was the surefire way to destroy our marriage. Something I refuse to risk."

She understood that. All too well, she understood what her husband was struggling with because she was struggling with her own version of it at this very moment. Hell, she had struggled with that urge for so many years it was almost a part of her; a limb she never used, but that still brushed against her side occasionally. She could talk as a big a game as she wanted to. When it came down to it, she'd put Harry above herself, even if it hurt.

It was hurting her now and she was going to do it again anyways. After all, she'd always been the risk taker in their relationship.

"Okay," she told him.

"'Okay'? What's 'okay' mean?"

"It means that now I know how you feel and you know how I feel. We can yell and scream and slam doors and throw plates at each other for the next twenty years before we end up in exactly the same place. It won't change anything. We both lost something we won't get back." She reached out and took his hand. "Maybe learning to let go of him is how we move on from it."

He eyed her with more than a little suspicion. "Is that really what you think?"

"Yes," she said simply.

_Look at that. You can still lie to him with the greatest of ease._

It wasn't a lie. Now that she knew how Harry felt and why he felt that way, Ginny hoped with everything she had that she could find it in her to heal from her loss. Ideally, she wanted her husband with her as she did, but she couldn't force him to confront something he wasn't willing to. She didn't love him any less for it. She was just disappointed.

Harry's thumb brushed over her knuckles, bringing her back to reality.

"We're stronger together than we are apart," he told her. "You know that, right?"

"I do." She looked back up to the stars. They at least didn't make her feel a hundred different things at once. "We'll need to be strong if we're going to deal with Grimmauld for the next six months."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you were right. Easy…Easy is okay for some things, I guess. Besides, it'll be nice to try city living again after so long. You know, we can get take away after nine o'clock at night if we feel like it."

"We don't have to worry about stepping in animal droppings when we go shopping at the market in London."

"Better reception on the wireless."

"More than two or three stations on the wireless."

"More than one pub to choose…" Ginny stopped herself just in time. They'd only ever have one pub, even if they wouldn't be welcome there for some time. "We'll be closer to Kerri. That'll be good for her. She needs us now."

"James needs her, too." He joined her in her stargazing, their hands keeping them connected. "So Grimmauld it is. I'll talk to Teddy in the morning; see when we can move in."

"Okay." After a long pause. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"If I hear one word out of that portrait, you will never hear the end of it from me."

* * *

A week later, after packing up or storing years of memories in Hastom, Ginny found herself standing alone in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place. The hate-filled tapestry representing the Black family's history obsession with pureblood status was still there, but around it the walls were now a calming teal with bare patches where happy family pictures had once hung.

It was an odd house for sure. Victoire's hand was everywhere, from the warm soft colors to the vases of flowers that sat in every room, even the loo. For all the elegant, feminine qualities the house now possessed, there were reminders of its former darkness everywhere: the tapestry of names and faces (some scorched away) still hung proudly, as did a few other choice pieces the late Mrs. Black, Sirius's mother, had been fond of, if she had even been capable of fondness to begin with. Thankfully, Harry had been right and her vile shrieking hadn't been heard of, despite an entire morning of traipsing through the hallway past her likeness as the three Potters moved their belongings in and the Lupins moved theirs out.

Walking towards the two small shoeboxes by the door, she tapped the empty one once and stood back as a wave of furniture, curtains, and plants rose up from all four corners of the room and flew into the box, shrinking and folding themselves all to fit. When it was full, Ginny tapped the other box and watched as her own couch and comfy chairs took their place, along with all of the other familiar knickknacks she had accumulated over the years. When the rug unfurled itself on the wooden floor and the last throw pillow landed, Ginny studied the room with a critical eye.

_Not quite home_, she decided to herself with a nod, _but it'll do. It'll have to do._

Picking up the full box, she nearly fell into Harry's embrace in the hallway. His hands went straight to her hips and without a bit of warning, every bit of blood in her body suddenly electrified, making the hairs on her arm stand on end. With great effort, she had to force the low moan trying to escape back into the pit of her stomach.

At the advent of this new state of calm, melancholy had finally seemed to have enough of its fill and was letting something else—something much more delectable—take its place; which was a godsend because after weeks and weeks of having no way to relieve the ever-present tension of their daily lives, Ginny was all too willing to give in to a bit of fun.

Unfortunately, her oblivious husband was too concerned with something as trivial as her safety to notice the signs her body was sending out to him. "You okay?" Harry asked as he helped to right her.

"Y-Yeah," she said, her voice cracking. It was only the well-timed (or ill-timed) cry of Sebastian from downstairs that stopped her from launching herself into Harry's arms, causing them to stumble back into one of the empty bedrooms where she'd land on top of him and-

_Breathe, Ginevra. Deep breaths. It's technically not your residence yet. Wait until the home's owners vacate before you start to defile your husband over every flat service._

"Is our room ready?" she asked him. She moved down the stairs with him, fighting to keep her composure. It was almost like she was a bloody fifth-year again, fighting to keep her insides from dancing a jitterbug whenever she caught Harry sneaking a glance at her during Quidditch practice. "I'm ready for a nice, long…kip. A very, very long kip."

_One more breath, just to be safe._

"Bed's made and waiting for you. I'll get dinner ready soon. Is James still out on the phone with Kerri?"

"Yes. You'd think with all they did with the house, Teddy and Vic could have found time to install a phone."

"Believe me, we tried" Teddy himself said when they reached him at the foot of the stairs. Victoire stood next to him with Sebastian cuddled against her. Without asking, he took Ginny's box, tucking it under his arm with two more and a small knapsack. "My ancestors were not keen on modernization of any form. Professor McGonagall couldn't even get through some of the enchantments the Blacks cast on this house over the centuries."

"I'm afraid owls and fireplaces will have to suffice," Victoire said apologetically.

"Good thing we're accustomed to that." Ginny kissed her goodbye while Harry and Teddy checked over the Portkey one last time. She rubbed her nose lightly against Sebastian's forehead as he yawned. "You, little man, are going to be the toast of France. Everyone's going to be trying to steal you away from your Mama when you walk down the streets, you're that adorable."

"Steal him from his Papa, more like it. They'll be on their own most of the time." The young woman let a small grimace mare her pristine Delacour features. "Working motherhood is going to be an adjustment."

"It's good for both you and Sebastian. He'll see you being strong and confident out in the world while Teddy supports you fully from home. It'll give him something to look for in a partner when he's old enough. The guilt…it's not pleasant, but you learn to live with it. I can't imagine life without my work."

"You're going back tomorrow then?"

Both she and Harry had used up all their planned vacation time to focus on James and the changes in all their lives. While Harry, being a Department Head, had returned to work on schedule, Ginny had used a couple of extra weeks. Part of it was wanting to be there for James and for getting to know Kerri, but there was, unfortunately, also an element of hiding to her decision. Like with her family, she just hadn't been ready to face the world head-on until she felt stronger, more secure in what the future would look like.

That time was now. The editor of _The Daily Prophet_, Jane Poole, had been badgering Ginny with letters for days about coming in for a meeting, probably just to show off the reader complaints regarding the reader complaints the paper had received regarding the writers they had been using in her absence; so many, in fact, that Ginny had stopped opening them for fear of incessant eye rolling at the sight of Jane's intricate, error-proof handwriting. Poole was a no-nonsense witch with forty years of experience in journalism and not much else in her life. Since taking over for Barnabas Cuff eighteen months ago, she had implemented a strict code of work ethic that everyone at the paper was to follow. Ginny, despite being near universal acclaim for her weekly column and editorial pieces, was not immune to Poole's wrath and as such could no longer avoid her summoning.

"Uh-huh," Ginny nodded. "Can't put it off any longer."

"I, for one, am glad to hear it," Teddy said. "I'm going to need something decent to read for inspiration."

"Oh, well as your inspiration, I best be getting a nice afterward in that book of yours." Instead of answering, Teddy blushed scarlet, looking all the more like the impish little boy he had once been when his eyes dashed quickly to the floor. "What? What is it?"

Harry smirked, still fiddling with the battered flashlight that would take the trio to their cottage in France while Victoire nudged her husband. "Go on. Tell her."

"Tell me what?"

"You're not in the afterword," Teddy admitted to his shoes. "You're, uh, you're getting the whole dedication."

"Excuse me?" Ginny squinted at him in disbelief. Surely he wasn't serious. Not with all the other people he had in his life: his wife and child, his grandmother, Harry, even the memory of the parents he had never known. "Why would you ever do a thing like that? I'm…I'm…I don't merit something like that."

He looked at her quizzically. "Sure you do. When I was a kid, you'd help me make my drawings into little picture books and then when I was old enough, you gave me my first journal. You never once laughed when I gave you a story to read." He looked at her as if seeing an extra head or two. "Ginny, without you, I don't know if I would have been brave enough to try this at all."

Her tears welled in the corners of her eyes, heedless of her will, like they did often nowadays. "You're the child of two of the bravest people I ever knew," she said as she pulled him in for a squeeze. "Of course you would have. I'm just so proud I got to see it from the beginning."

"Me, too." The loud chime of the grandfather clock signaled the Portkey's imminent activation and the Lupins all grabbed a piece of the dishrag. "Take care of the old place for us. Call or write if you need anything. "

"Will do," Harry said, clapping his godson on the back. "You have to promise me something, though: No berets, for you or this little guy." He tickled under Sebastian's arm. "I helped raise you better than that."

Teddy's laughing agreement lingered in the air as the dishrag flashed brilliantly and the young family disappeared from the hallway. The glow was still fading as James walked in the front door.

"Did I miss them?" he asked his parents, tucking a slim phone into the back pocket of his jeans. "Sorry, just talking with Kerri. She said to say hello."

"How is she?" Ginny asked as the trio made their way down to the cozy basement kitchen. She wasn't sure how, but Ginny was certain Fleur had found a way to get some sort of sunlight into this room. It seemed much cheerier than the summer before her fourth-year, when Molly had tried every spell she knew to freshen up. Harry started putting together some sandwiches while Ginny dusted off a few loose dishes. James sat at the table before he answered her.

"She's good. Really good. Actually, uh, I wanted to ask you if I could skip dinner tonight to go see her." It looked to Ginny for just a half second that the words had taken some effort to come out, but they did anyways.

She had thought after bringing Kerri to the Burrow that James was more at ease with the friendship the two of them seemed to be developing. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps there were still questions about his future that James wasn't ready to answer yet or even hear asked.

Trying to give him an out, she told him, "You could bring her here. She's more than welcome."

"Yeah, I've only just gotten her on board with broomsticks being used for travel; a house that she wouldn't be able to see from the outside unless we cast a spell on her is going to be something of a step backwards. Besides, she wants to take me to this music club she knows."

"Is that really the best place for a pregnant girl?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, spreading an unhealthy amount of mayonnaise on a piece of bread. "Crowded room filled with smoke and liquor?"

"Good thing she's bringing a wizard that's decent with a Repelling Charm." He looked at them both expectantly. "Can I go?"

"Sure, that's fine," Harry told him after getting Ginny's nod of approval. "Just don't be out too late. You've got a big day tomorrow."

"It's orientation. I'm meeting the others in my class, getting a tour, lectures, and all of my books. Besides, it's not like I can really start my real training until I take my N.E.W.T.s over winter break anyways."

Harry put his knife down and regarded his son until James met his eyes.

"You're putting on the uniform," he said, enunciating the last word. "It's the one that tells everyone else who sees you that when they're in danger, you're going to be the one getting the call. You're walking into headquarters and making first impressions on people whom you could one day be relying on to save your life in that uniform. Take it seriously, mate."

Putting the dishes in the cupboard with her back to them, Ginny blew out a long, low breath. "Can you not talk about his life needing to be saved in front of me like that?"

A pause and then, "I thought you were okay with this, Mum."

"Accepting and supporting are two wildly different things. Just because I know that I can't talk you out of this doesn't mean that I'm going to be cheering you on from the sidelines." She was so engrossed in ignoring the horribly graphic images of her son bleeding on the ground that she didn't feel him come up behind her and press a kiss against the back of her head.

"I'm going to be the most boring, by-the-book, relentlessly handbook quoting Auror the department has ever seen," he promised. "My kid won't see me in a hospital bed every three or four months and I will never have to wear a magical eye because my real one was blown out of my head."

Ginny turned and poked him in the chest. "You'd better be telling the truth, young man. Your Gran was an excellent teacher when it came to badgering and laying on guilt trips."

"I'm telling the truth. I swear on the life of little Phileasseus or Hildonia."

"No, no, no." She poked him again, harder this time. "Normal names, normal Muggle names that are under five syllables."

"Deal. As soon as I can get Kerri to consider names, those will be the ones we look at." Giving his mother a peck on the cheek, James grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and walked backwards out of the kitchen with a wave. "I'll be back later."

"In the house by eleven," Ginny ordered.

"Sure."

"Eleven, James," Harry repeated. "I'll be waiting up and I have no qualms whatsoever about Apparating all over London to find you. Understand?"

"I do. Bye." With nothing more than a quick turn and a loud pop, he was gone.

Ginny only shook her head. Trying as he was at times, she couldn't deny that there was something to be admired about her son.

"What's that look for?" Harry asked as he placed a chicken salad sandwich in front of her.

The smell tickled her senses uncomfortably and she pushed aside the food almost as soon as Harry took his hand off the plate. "I'm not hungry. What look was I giving off?"

"Exasperated with a hint of melancholy," he replied around a mouthful of ham and turkey.

"Oh. I guess…I don't know I was just thinking how lucky James is in the scheme of things."

"Lucky?"

"Not in general, not with what's going on in his life. I just meant that he's lucky because no matter what's happened to him, he always manages to land on his feet."

"Like a feral cat."

She chucked a potato chip at his head. "I'm being serious here."

"I know, I know. I'm not trying to be a git, but what did you except? He's the son of two people who know how to survive disasters with a modicum of sanity leftover. Of course he'd be okay."

"Is that a roundabout way of saying that, despite all evidence to the contrary, you and I are good parents?"

Standing across the room from her and leaning against the countertop, he offered her a half smile that could still freeze her to her spot twenty some odd years later. "Actually I was going to give you most of the credit."

In the frenzy of closing their house in Hastom, moving, and getting ready to return to work (not to mention teenage pregnancies and the aura of resentments from the past between good friends boiling to the surface) Ginny hadn't been able to say much to her husband since Sebastian's birthday party other than, "Pack this" or "Have you seen that?" with neither being code words for any meaningful discussions they still may need to have. She knew that Evan's death and their ways of coping with it in the present still formed something of a thin layer between the two of them; not enough to notice every second of the day, but one that brushed up against them every so often to remind them that all was not settled.

What was this thing called "settled", though? Would they ever achieve it? Would they ever be completely and one-hundred percent at peace with what happened years ago? Of course they wouldn't be. If they just kept pushing onward, if they just kept their focus on the present and the children they still had with them, maybe that was the key to it all.

_Really?_ Her subconscious had begun to sound suspiciously like Nell in the past several days, as comforting as it was irksome. _That's going to solve everything now? Optimistic, aren't we? _

But as Harry wiped a stray dot of sweat from his forehead, the muscle of his arm flexing ever so slightly, optimistic was the last thing that Ginny felt. A white-hot shot of lust made camp in the pit of her stomach, spreading out and claiming new territory within her body with alarming speed. It could have been months, since she held her husband for anything more than stability, instead of weeks. Seeing him standing there in this new kitchen, with nothing but time and each other between them, she let herself give in to something other than…than whatever the hell it was she had been letting herself feel lately.

Even if he had no firm hold of what was going on in her head or her heart at the moment, at least after so many years together, Harry knew the language her body spoke. It took no more than a few calculated, sultry steps towards him, eyes locked on his the entire time, before he swallowed his bite of sandwich and put it aside.

"We're going to have this old house to ourselves for at least a few hours," she told him, twining her arms around his neck, her breath brushing against his ear. "I think we should put off the rest of the unpacking in favor of something more constructive."

"So, uh, would you like to go upstairs and fold some laundry?" he asked cheekily, employing the phrase for sex they'd started using when the kids were old enough to pick up on their conversations.

She pressed her body against his, reveling in his familiar warmth. "I very much would, sir."

"Now are we talking just putting the clothes right in the dresser or," he wrapped his arms around her, leaning to kiss a soft trail across her collarbone as her pulse drummed unevenly against his lips, "should we do some ironing before we put things away?"

"I mean, we have the time to do things proper." She ran her hands through his unruly hair. "It'd be a shame to waste it when neither of our shirts and trousers have had a proper ironing since the summer. Although you haven't ironed anything in ages. I'd be surprised if you even remember-AHHH!"

Harry laughed at her squeal as he swept her off her feet, helping Ginny to wrap her legs around his waist and taking them both upstairs.

"I sincerely hope," he told her in between kisses, pressing her up against the wall, "that you didn't have any plans for walking straight in the next couple of days."

"Give it your best shot," she replied, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, eager to shut the world away for the next several hours.

* * *

"You okay, Mum?" James asked Ginny first thing the next morning as she joined him and Harry for breakfast.

"Of course I am," she replied, pouring herself a cup of tea.

"Really?" James shrugged and brought his empty bowl to the sink. "I could have sworn you were limping a little when you came in."

Hidden safely behind the morning paper, Harry's feral grin spread from ear to ear. Scowling, Ginny nevertheless straightened her back, fiddling with the sugar bowl.

"I-I stumbled over a loose floorboard coming out of the loo. Watch yourself; this old house is full of them."

"Nice save," Harry whispered to her."

"Shut it."

"I did tell you it might be smart to stretch a little before we tried that last thing." Her sharp kick to his shin did nothing to defuse the contentment emanating from him and after a minute, she felt her own embarrassment fading away to a small smile of peace. Their lovemaking the previous night (and part of the present morning, after checking to make sure James had come home) had helped to bridge a divide between them. Their bodies had started to mend what their words could not and even though there was still much work to be done, Ginny didn't fear it in the least.

She loved Harry and he loved her. He was right. As long as they held on to each other, they would be fine.

James interrupted her musings by handing a sealed envelope. "An owl brought this for you this morning. Feathery bugger nearly took my finger off when I tried to take the damn thing out of its mouth."

"Mind your language," she scolded her son reflexively, rolling her eyes when she saw the familiar scrawl of Jane Poole on the front of the envelope. "Lovely, a welcome back summons from my editor. Probably wants to go over some new office policy she's enacted in my absence about how the staff is supposed to sit at our own desks."

"We should introduce her to Hermione. They'd be best friends inside of an hour," Harry said."

"No, because Jane would be too puzzled by that thing Hermione occasionally does with her mouth during conversation. What's it called again? Oh yes, smiling."

"She is your boss, Luv. No matter how miserable you find her to be, you've got to listen to her."

"Which I will. I will go into her office, sit down in one of her horribly uncomfortable guest chairs, and then listen as she lectures on how professional newsrooms only use quills from the feathers of brown quails as opposed to white ones. However, I will have to do it after I finish the interview that I will be late for if I don't leave soon." She drained the rest of her tea and kissed Harry soundly on the lips." "See you tonight. Keep your eyes on our son. Don't let him wander to any strange corners of the Ministry."

"Who are you interviewing?" James asked her when she pulled back from Harry.

Smiling coyly, she started getting her bag together instead of answering him.

"Who? Who is it?" James asked again, his interest peaked as he wiped his hands.

"It's a Quidditch player and it's a secret."

"No, come on! You always tell me. Your son, who's the best Quidditch player you ever gave birth to."

"Who then betrayed me by becoming a Keeper."

"Is it Manning?"

"Nope."

"Lestinghouse?"

"No."

"Royce? Myanza? Brody? Sapperstein?"

Ginny glanced at him, her boy, his brown eyes bright and shiny as his navy blue robes, the color for all Auror recruits. It wouldn't have been that long ago that James would wear something like that for a game of Pretend. Now it was for real. The games he'd play now were grown-up ones, but that didn't make him any less her little Quidditch star that delighted in the game with the same fervor she had always had.

She pointed her finger straight at him. "You can't say a word to anyone until this goes to press tonight. Not even my editor knows about this interview; those are the hoops I've had to fly through over the last six months to land it."

"Promise." James held up his right hand as if to swear an oath. "Now spill!"

She couldn't resist letting the silence hang in the air for just a few seconds longer, bracing herself for the inevitable onslaught that she had known for weeks would come at this reveal. "I'm going to Cairo and having breakfast with Amir Shehata in-"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" James let out a whoop of excitement, jumping so high his hair skirted the ceiling. Even Harry, as accustomed to celebrity and fame as any wizard, dropped his paper, his mouth open with awe. "My mum is going to be sitting at a table with maybe the greatest Keeper to ever play the game! Are you having me on?! He hates the press, never even speaks to reporters after a match. When did you arrange this?"

"We finalized the interview details in August."

"How could you keep this a secret this long?"

Putting her last scroll in her tan satchel, she turned to her son with a hand on one hip. "We've been a bit busy these past six or seven weeks, James. Wouldn't you agree?"

"King's X on teen pregnancies and uprooting our lives," he replied with a dismissive wave. "You could have spared a minute to mention AMIR SHEHATA!"

"James!"

"I'm sorry, I'm with him on this one," Harry said, laughing. "This is a man who hasn't allowed a goal in a regulation match in something like, what, over a year?"

"Fifteen months, which is fifty-two matches and that's not even factoring the length of some of those." James sat down next to Harry. "Remember last March, when he and the Comets played the Sunrays? The match lasted seventeen hours!"

"Sumbawanga has always played them tough, but to be honest none of the African teams put a high value on Seekers any more so marathons are to be expected in their league."

"Oh, that's rubbish. Benjamin Kotze has caught more Snitches on his own than the last five Ballycastle Seekers combined. Admit it: you're a Seeker snob, Dad."

"I've never denied it. It's the most difficult position in the game. There are very few in the world that can do it well. The fact that I was one of them in my lifetime is something I think back on with pride."

"Well, maybe you should get back on your broomstick and show those kiddies how you old-timers did it."

"Listen, you are not too old for me to consider taking you over my knee and…Ginny, are you alright?"

Ginny blinked to find both Harry and James looking up at her questioningly.

"What?"

"You were just looking at us funny, that's all."

"No, it's nothing," Ginny said, feeling foolish. "It's just…" She shrugged, finally blurting out what she had been thinking and feeling. "It feels normal again. Us, sitting here talking about Quidditch and whatnot. It feels very, very normal. I like it."

Harry squeezed her hand. "Me, too."

James nodded in agreement. "I do as well. I'm also wondering if things returning to normal means that my amazing, fabulous, hardly-looks-like-she's-even-approaching-the-age-o f-thirty-mum will be getting me something signed, perhaps, by this famous bloke she's chatting with today?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "What do you say?"

"I don't know if we're quite that normal just yet."

"Please?" His eyes begged innocently and she smiled wistfully remembering a fuzzy puppy in a toy store window. It had only been what, five or six minutes ago at the latest?

"I'll see. Amir is a private man and he's being very gracious giving me an hour of his time."

James pulled her down gently, placing a kiss on her cheek. "You're really the best, Mum. Definitely naming the kid after you if she's a girl."

"No, you are not," she told him seriously. "Ginevra is not a name that was enjoyable for me as a child. It's the name of an old woman who knits throw pillows in between feeding her menagerie of cats. He or she is getting a traditional, normal Muggle name. If I have to say that every single day for the next six months or so to get it to sink in, then so be it."

"Understood. Oi!" Shooting up from the table, James raced for the stairs. "Wait here a second! Let me see if I can find my old Keeper gloves for him to autograph!"

"He's impossible," Ginny said, shaking her head and throwing her bag over her shoulder.

"Absolutely," Harry agreed. "Completely and totally his mother's son."

Hugging him from behind, she buried her nose into his neck. "The only reason I'm not smacking you for that comment," she whispered against his ear, "is because we forgot to starch our linens last night and I think we need to rectify that as soon as possible."

"Luv, I will starch anything you'd like me to on one condition."

"What's that?"

The blush coloring his cheek was adorably boyish. "If I go get my old Quidditch gloves, can you get them signed for me, too?"

A few hours later, two pairs of gloves signed for her men at Grimmauld and two hats signed for Al and Lily in her bag, Ginny Apparated into the main floor of the _Daily_ _Prophet_, thoroughly ready to go into her office and take a nice long kip on her sofa. Even though the extra travel had knocked off whatever energy she had left over from her escapades with her husband as they broke in their new bedroom, the results of her interview with Amir Shehata more than made up for it. Their interview had lasted well after the breakfast dishes had been cleared away and during that conversation Amir had revealed himself to be a wizard that, having grown up literally on the streets of Cairo, was humbled by and appreciative of all that he had come to earn through his monumental success. Grateful as he was to his fans for their support, he was nonetheless still the shy boy who felt more afraid sometimes of introducing himself to someone new than of nearly diving off his broom to make a fantastic save. Once Ginny put him at ease, Amir proved to be witty, gracious, and remarkably insightful about the game of Quidditch. It was one of the best interviews she had ever done and she knew by the time it went to press tonight, barring an international incident of epic proportions, it would be on the front page of the paper tomorrow, bolstering Ginny's already sterling reputation as the best source of Quidditch news in all of Great Britain.

This was why she worked, why she had long ago learned to live with that small knot of guilt that tickled up at times from the base of her spine into her chest. She had, unfortunately, missed two firsts because of her work (Al's lost tooth and Lily's solo in the Christmas recital) and as much as it pained her, she needed this sense of accomplishment that was filling her to the brim at this moment simply because it had nothing to do with Harry or her children or anyone else. This was Ginny's alone and as much as she adored her family, there would always be that part of her that had been the youngest of seven that needed to show the world how bright her own star could occasionally shine.

Still in a state of euphoria, she walked through the newsroom smiling and nodding somewhat absentmindedly at her colleagues. It was only when she reached the door to her office that she felt their curious stares hit her square between her shoulder blades.

_Maybe my meeting with Amir leaked_, she thought to herself, shutting the door behind her and taking off her coat with a shrug. _Someone at the hotel could have seen us._

She had just started to go through the pile of letters and notes on her cluttered desk that had amassed in her long absence when someone knocked on her door three times before sticking his impossibly large head in.

"Good morning, Mrs. Potter," Reginald Kent, the personal assistant to the editor-in-chief, greeted her politely.

"Reggie, it's Ginny," she said, searching in vain through the mess for a quill. "I've told you a hundred times to just call me Ginny."

"Yes, Mrs. Potter. I'm sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Poole wanted to see you as soon as you got back to the office."

"Of course she did." Ginny didn't even try to hide her sigh of annoyance. The irksome young man was nearly as insufferable as the woman he worked for. "Look, I'll be there in a few minutes. I was late because I was able to ensure an exclusive interview with one of the biggest names in Quidditch. I just back from an international Apparation and I-"

"I beg your pardon, ma'am, but Ms. Poole was not asking if you would come to see her." The twenty-something patted down his dark hair and barely had the graciousness to look apologetic. "She was insisting."

_Of course she was, the brutish cow_.

Following Reginald out of the office slowly, forcing him to keep pace with her, Ginny did her best to stifle back a yawn as they made their way through the maze of the newsroom, dodging flying office memos, bustling reporters, and harried-looking interns carrying scrolls stacked high up to their chins with owls perched on their shoulders. Yet even in the midst of all this controlled chaos, conversation dropped to a whisper or stopped outright whenever Ginny and Reginald passed by.

"Was there another reporter with a Quick-Quill hiding in a bush or something during my interview?" she asked, only half-joking. The news business could be cutthroat at the best of times and downright homicidal at the worst. "Has my scoop been scooped?"

"I wouldn't know, ma'am. I'm not a reporter."

"Just their boss's right-hand man. Give yourself some credit, Reggie. You know every bit of shite that goes on here and where it ends up."

"So you think of me as a glorified plumber then. Mrs. Potter?"

"Oh, Reg, of course I don't. I'd never give you that much credit."

Instead of biting back, he merely smiled wider as they arrived at Jane Poole's office door. Giving the wood three perfunctory knocks, "I have Mrs. Potter for you, ma'am," he said loudly.

"Send her in," Jane's raspy answered from the other side.

"Thank you, Reg," Ginny told him as he held the door open wide for her.

It was murmured under his breath, but his words were unmistakable. "You're quite welcome, Grandma," he said, shutting the door firmly in her face as she whirled around, blinking twice.

_What? What did he just say? Was that…Was that some kind of joke?_

Turning slowly to face her boss, every whispered and halted conversation she had just walked through flew straight into her and landed in her stomach, threatening to upend the breakfast egg dish called shakshouka Amir had ordered for that she had only barely been able to keep down earlier that morning. She had been too tired, too high off her great get of an interview to really notice that all the talk and all the stares had been directed at her before in the newsroom.

She had been even less inclined to put any effort into remembering why it felt so familiar.

"Mrs. Potter," Jane said from behind her neat desk. The only thing more severe than the woman's sense of fashion or decor was the bun her ivory hair was pulled back into. Her blue eyes, so blue they could be black in the right light, peered intensely at Ginny from a pair square frames as she finished signing a document. "Please have a seat."

Mechanically, Ginny sat in the chair opposite Jane that was designed purely to get it's occupant of it as fast as possible. That wouldn't happen now. The sense of déjà vu crashing over her was so all-consuming it made her dizzy in the midst of slapping her around for being so childishly stupid. No matter the promise or the apologies over a decade ago, Ginny really had been asking for trouble when she kept working for the same paper that had nearly ruined her son's life before he was old enough to hold his own head up.

"You weren't writing to nag me about story ideas or when I was coming back," she began slowly, not having the patience for niceties. She just wanted to get it over and done with.

Jane put her white quill down and folded her hands across her desk. "No, I wasn't."

"You knew about my son, about James, and you wanted all the gory details from me."

"That's one way to look at, I suppose. The other is that I was extending you a professional courtesy."

"Courtesy?" Ginny could barely get the word out around her sarcastic chuckle. "That's the word you're going to go with?"

"If you'd prefer warning, we can use that instead. Whatever word we choose, you were the one that began ignoring my letters as of late. You have only yourself to blame for being blindsided."

"How did you even find out about this?" Ginny asked, ignoring the dig. "The only people who know are family and they would never betray us like this."

"Other people who work here have children that go to Hogwarts. You son is, well he **was** quite popular there. It was noticeable when he left. Some of the other boys he called friends started telling stories to others in their class about his exploits: sneaking liquor onto school grounds, cavorting with several different girls there and finally of a trip to London over the summer, one where he disappeared for a whole night with a Muggle girl he met on a drinking binge."

"They could have been rumors; stupid stories that boys tell to seem like men. You had no way of knowing they'd be a story unless you decided to look into James's life."

"Yes, that's true, and that would have been in ill taste. However, when these stories and rumors came to my attention, they apparently had enough details to seem believable to people you've worked with for years, people with credibility in investigative journalism. Your silence and nonattendance were also suspicious enough that the decision was made to publish what we had. When we tracked down the Muggle girl to see if she had any additional details to provide on the piece we were working on, it was outside of a prenatal clinic."

"She never mentioned anything about that."

"She didn't see us. We were very careful to remain hidden, so as not to frighten her unduly, and we never approached her. It was only after overhearing her two flat mates confirm the pregnancy and seeing her out with your son last night that we felt that we could go to print."

"With what?" Ginny asked sarcastically. "With salacious details of his sexual escapades or his blatant alcoholism? Do the gossip mongers down the hall have pictures of him burning portraits of Merlin in effigy, too? Maybe they can even find a way to turn a smudge of dirt of his arm into a Dark Mark." Ginny ticked the list off her fingers angrily. "Damn it, Jane, he's only seventeen years old!"

"Which means he's of age and he's now held accountable for his actions," Jane explained, her voice never rising in pitch. "For someone like him, born into privilege and the public eye, that also means his mistakes have a brighter light shone on them."

"You know for all the bitching and complaining we all do about you here, I always still believed you were too professional to be above this."

"What's that?"

"Pandering to the idiotic masses. Shoving hurtful rumors and stories down people's throats just so they can feel better about themselves by reading about someone else's misery."

"Those people, those idiotic masses keep our lights on. Competition in the print media has never been higher. We're already down in sales for three quarters straight so if I don't run a story that every other paper in our community prints—and by the way, I've heard _Witch Weekly_ and _The Wizarding Standard_ both have cover stories about James debuting tomorrow—than we don't turn profits on our work, which means I can't afford to keep everyone here employed." She leaned back into her leather chair, her eyes flickering down. "It was a choice between the many and the one. I'm truly sorry that the one in this case had to be your son."

"Oh, I'm sure you are."

"However it may seem to you or everyone else outside that door, just because I've made my life about my work does not mean I don't have compassion for others."

Ginny shook her head, a bitter half smile turning upwards. "Too bad for my family that compassion isn't a part of your job description."

"Your son would drink alcohol and use illegal potions at his school; he'd have friends lie for him or he'd lie directly to adult authority figures in his life; he engaged in unsafe sex with several different girls while he was in a serious relationship with a young woman who also happens to be your goddaughter; and his behavior resulted in an out-of-wedlock pregnancy with a Muggle who has now had to have been made aware of the magical world, thus compromising the Statue of Secrecy. Is anything I've just said untrue, Mrs. Potter?"

After a long moment, Ginny finally said, "No."

"By being the son of Harry Potter, James is himself a public figure. He's not exempt from scrutiny and now that he's starting to step out into the world, he'll need to find a way to deal with that on his own."

"Because he clearly doesn't have enough on his plate right now, does he?"

For the first time in their brief history, Ginny watched as Jane's face softened and years fell away from it. "He does, actually. Unfortunately, our investors, the wizards who overrule me, don't particularly care. They want us to cover this story and their word is final."

"Leaving your hands tied and no other choices at your disposal. How lucky for you."

"I do have choices, Mrs. Potter. I'm just making the ones that are going to keep the most food on peoples' tables."

"Fine," Ginny said, getting up. She'd had quite enough of this barren room and the barren-hearted woman in it. "Are you running…Is it going to print tonight or in the morning edition?"

"Tonight," Jane replied, rising with Ginny. "I spoke to the photographer we had following the girl and he said she's still alone home-"

"Kerri. Her name is Kerri. You, and your photographers, and every other bastard working on this trash is about to ruin her life so be a dear and have the decency to use her name."

"Kerri is still at her flat," Jane continued, nonplussed. "No other paper has the address yet, but that won't last much longer. If it were me, I'd get her out of there and take her somewhere with a lot of powerful wards as soon as possible."

"Well, that's why you get paid the big bucks; thinking of the blatant in the middle of the obvious takes real brains."

"And for the record, Kerri Smithfield's normal life ended when she and your son decided to become parents, as you well know. Don't try to put that one on me."

Ginny wanted to just walk out of that office and be done with all them, all the bloody parasites that were out to get their pound or two of her flesh, but Amir's nervous smile as he opened up to her, of remembering what it had cost him to do that, made her stop at the door.

"There's an interview with Amir Shehata on my desk," she said, fighting to keep her voice as level as she could. "It needs to be proofed before it goes to print. Amelia can take care of it. She did well with the column while I was out. If it were up to me, she's who I'd promote as my permanent replacement."

Jane furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "You don't think she's too-?"

"I know she doesn't write from a player's perceptive, but she's a diehard student of the game. I'll give her the names of my old contacts. They'll get her the locker room access she'll need."

"I'll meet with her today then. I can also speak with Personnel about arranging some kind of severance for you if you'd like."

"No, thank you. I don't want anything else from this paper ever again." She shook her head at her own naivety. "I should have walked out the door when they put my son's biological father on their front page. For the life of me, I can't even remember what Cuffe said to me to make me stay the first time."

The older woman nodded and walked from around her desk to stand in front of Ginny. Her hands twitched slightly. For a spilt second, Ginny had the crazy idea that Jane was going to put her hands on her shoulders and squeeze them in support. "It was probably something along the lines of while it's understandable that you wouldn't want to work for this paper after the great disservice they've done to your family, you have an amazing gift for writing and you'd be extremely selfish if you didn't share it with the world. If it's through a newspaper or your own books or comic strips or maybe even publication someday, I sincerely hope that you don't let all those precious words go to waste in your head." She shrugged and cleared a knot out of her throat. "I'm paraphrasing, of course. Barney was much crasser than that."

"Yeah, he was," Ginny said carefully, not sure what to make of this puzzling woman who had seemed to become someone else in the time Ginny set foot in her office. For the briefest time, professional courtesy overtook her parental instincts and she held out a stiff hand to her former boss. "Goodbye, Jane."

Jane took the offered hand within both of hers. "Best of luck to you, Ginny."

The handshake was over almost as soon as it began. Ginny left and headed for the nearest Apparition station at the other end of the newsroom. Without a second thought, she left her working life behind and headed to Kerri's, bracing herself as best she could for the next onslaught of crisis.

_No one ever said normal was going to be boring_.


End file.
